To the One I love
by Eyes like Dawn
Summary: Dark magic is not being called upon often any more. Cora strikes an alliance with Rumpelstiltskin to become partners in her machinations and renew their trysts. When Rumpel moves to Cora's castle, he finds she is not alone but has a slave girl named Belle. Will he cling to the darkness in Cora or will another light overtake his soul?
1. A Dark Alliance

_A/N: This happened in a firestorm of inspiration and a serious lack of Rum/Belle that attacked me like a lightening storm of bricks upside the head. And of course it is AU. Any how enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: I do not own OUaT**

**~8~8~**

Mist that rose from dewed woodland thickly wreathed the dead boughs of horridly twisted trees through the infamous Dead Mans Forest. Gnarled trees leaned and curved and contorted in wretched forms like malformed human corpses set in morbid display through the haunted glades and coppices of the accursed woods. Silvery moss hung in sparse hag's tatters from the branches, doing little to garland their rotten persons. Long limbs and spindly branches thrust out like serrated demon claws waiting to grab a person unawares or shot to the sky in pleading to end the misery of their sorry state.

The land undulated like some giant serpent that moved replete though the dirt. Upraised roots puckered out of the moist, loamy ground like an array of bony legs all tossed as one upon the dense forest floor. Ugly, putrid green moss spread a moldy carpet upon the forest land. Where falls leaves should have lain sat porous green moss and toxic bile yellow mushrooms nestled in the joints of decayed trees

Living things barely prowled the forest, and those that did, no one wished to meet even in the light of day, much less the horrid night where hags and demons were said to roam at their leisure and beast of fable made their home in hollowed oaks and mossy knolls and tossed the yellowed bones of their kills about the forest like strewn decorations.

Cora thought the place had charm.

Standing in a wretched glade, the sorceress breathed in the delicate aromas of dead moss and rotting hunks of timber petrifying upon the forest floor. The smell was akin to fresh mulch only more robust and with the slight hint of moist earth from a night's rain.

The moon with above her head was a pallid clipped coin of unhappiness, beaming down upon the straggly tresses of moss and the vaporous fog. Ribbons of thin clouds cloaked the gibbous moon in a gray diaphanous veil. Moon motes transformed the hoary mist into a bluish tint that came with a bitter chill.

Liquid silver danced through her locks from the smiling moon transforming her raven hair into gilt celestial beams. Her body paled even greater than she preferred making her seem akin to a haughty phantom roaming a long cursed haunt.

A dark blue dress, not for forest travel by any means graced her slender form. Wide cuffs that dipped into a point were intricately embroidered with swirls of gold and so was the edge of her dress. Blue shoes peeped from the very bottom of the exquisite gown. A silver pendant, her only jewelry upon her figure, hung in the hollow of her throat. From a distance she was a gorgeous mirage, the epitome of womanly grace, but up close she was a viper, a banshee, a carcass bloated with malice and hate and misery.

Here stood Cora the cruel.

Impatience graced her face as she stared about the wretched grove with disinterest to the wicked past. Though the forest was terrible, nothing in the glade could compare to her cruelty or her power. The malice shrank away from her, reverent and awed, the ghosts of the long dead hide from her in fear, even the haunted spirit that evoked the copses namesake bowed to her darkness.

A sigh fled her lips as she tapped a foot against a mossy boil along an upraised root. A large black beetle scuttled away from the disruption only to be carefully squished under her foot. "Where is he?" The witch muttered beneath her breath sending a plume of vapor into the air. Arms crossed she turned upon her heel like some insulted bride. "He should be here by now."

"With a name like 'Dead Man's Forest' how could I possibly resist the invitation?" Rumpelstiltskin trilled in maniacal delight. The quiet filled with dangerous laughter that pealed maliciously about the forest. Insane chuckles echoed from the trees like some crazed murders last breath.

Steeping from the mist the Dark One melted from the foggy darkness like some horrendous apparition. His usual brown leather garb tightly donned his figure making him seem even more the crazed beast of legends old.

Satisfaction wove upon her mouth as she looked the fiend up and down. "Always one to make an entrance Rumpel."

Slowly the giggles tapered away from his mouth to contemplative silence in the eerier gloom. His lips curved into an impressed flicker of a smile. His eyes inspected the proud, stately woman before him, confident and unafraid. She had always been such but now with the power to back up her pride. Dangerous, conniving, hateful, Cora had always been a vicious wolf hiding under her beauty.

To see her again thrilled him. "You look good Cora." He commented in an impish purr of attraction and took a nimbly graceful step forward. "Been quite a while since I've seen you. The last time we met you were…" He paused and flourished a spindly, black nailed finger across his neck. "Beheading some weeping noblemen." A cruel cackle erupted from his smiling mouth showing rows of dappled teeth. "The years have treated you well."

In truth she had aged little. The magic she wielded as her own provided the needed halt in age. Wrinkles smooth, age faded away, and the calluses she had gained from her hard, bitter toil as a miller's daughter were vanished, but she still looked the woman he had met in the tower pondering her fate when morning came and she would have no gold. She still looked the same, hateful woman with just a few pinched lines around her mouth from all the time holding back her tongue in front of those she loathed. Those marks, no matter the magic, would ever leave.

A small self assured smile that rivaled on a cocky smirk of flattery painted her crimson lips. "The same can be said for you, Rumpel. It's been quite a while since our trysts."

"Quite." The fiend echoed the word appreciatively in a low rumble.

Oh those had been good days and deliciously long nights. The infidelity behind her betrothed had lasted all through the engagement and at the altar instead of saying "I do" she had taken his heart and crushed the poor prince's aorta in her delicate hands. Afterwards she had thrown the mystical sand like rice at the end of the wedding.

For Rumpelstiltskin the moment still provided him chuckles. Irony was the greatest of jesters.

"I've grown stronger you know." She coyly stepped out of his range like some dancing specter upon the mists. Her eyes searched him coyly. "Everyday I grow stronger."

He humored her. "I can see that, Dearie." The magical monster's eyes gazed at her up and down lasciviously once more. Why had he broken up their trysts again? Thinking back, he couldn't rightly recall, not when she looked so deliciously malevolent.

Perhaps their spark had burnt out, perhaps they had decided to go their separate ways, but they had not departed on bad terms. Their agreements had been for a child, but Cora, as fate would hold, when he arrived, he found to his disappointment Cora could not bear a child. He had planned to leave her in her fate in the tower, but he was intrigued and attracted and another deal was struck.

"Which is why I've called you here." She explained as though taking no notice of his lustful stare. Even when she had been magic-less peasant, Cora was no fool to her charms. Not only her beauty, but her darkness drew in the lonely Dark One like a moth to a biting flame. Such as their relationship had always been.

Not looking directly his way, she plucked at the fringes of her dress sleeves. "We make up the two most powerful sorcerers in this realm, Rumpel. I purpose an alliance."

In an instant the Dark One stood directly behind her. Tongues of cruel black magic crackled against the mist, swirling with the grayish vapors like foreign snakes in a pit full of vipers.

The sorceress steeled her nerve with such magic near. Her back stood stiff as she refused to budge.

His hot breath ghosted against her like dragon smoke, scalding the nape of her neck. "And what makes you think I need an alliance?" The fiend queried, his lips skirting near the bare flesh of her neck.

An intrepid smile braved her composed features. "You don't. You don't need my powers, but you need other things."

"Such as…?" The rumbling words rolled softly from his tongue.

"I know you're lonely all alone up there in your Dark Castle. You have nothing and no one will have you. I can offer you so much should you chose to dwell in my castle and aid me. Companionship… intellect… another way of seeing things. " She whispered out into the night.

Unable to resist the Dark One brushed his lips against her moon pale skin. His mouth slowly kissed the magic tainted flesh, savoring her dark bitterness beneath the skin so much like his own and reveling in the company of his misery with hers. "Sounds like you need those things, Dearie."

"And you don't?" Cora huffed and arched her back away from him. "You know as well as I business has been slow for years. Deals only come in trickles now."

In the days of peace as they were called, business was slow for those with ill intentions. The "Charming's" as they were so nauseatingly dubbed allied with other kingdoms and brought peace to the realms. Wealth and prosperity reigned over the land and the rulers were good and kind.

Deals only came by the rare unsatisfied simpleton now; farmers who wanted and extra cow for milk day or a maiden who wanted prettier eyes. Those things were beneath them but their presence showed their straits for deals.

His leather garb creaked as he heaved his shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe and maybe not." The beast kissed the words against her skin. He couldn't deny every word she said, but he was not a man who worked well with partners. "But you do have me curious. What would our alliance entail?" He drawled impishly in his caress.

"Aid in certain circumstances if needed, mutual respect, a promise to keep out of each others more… important business, and of course a legend of the two most powerful sorcerers living together that will keep every kingdom from the forest to sea worried and terrified." She hissed in pleasure to his ministrations.

Even after all the years apart he still knew how to coax every inch of pleasure from her.

Savoring the taste of her skin, he spoke in half a breath. "You're up to something." He trilled softly in accusation.

"Aren't I always?" She laughed sultrily. A low hum fell from her mouth as she craned her neck to receive his errant kisses. What point was there to hide that she indeed had some machination up her sleeves?

Well she did have a good argument, he deduced inwardly, and pleasantly offered temptations to swing in his vision. Some days he was lonely and seeing Cora again sparked a longing he had forgotten in their last passionate trysts.

Why had he severed their coupling? The thought nagged at the edges of his brain, but he couldn't decipher why, nor did he care. She was there now, and looking just as lovely as she had when she sat at the old spinning wheel trying to conjure gold from straw to save her life.

Cora brought the last bit of man out of him. The man that only possessed the bad, but the man still.

"Do we have a bargain Dark One?" She feigned pure innocence of a young maid.

The fiend bit back a cruel laugh at her coquettish tone. There was nothing maidenly about Cora!

Spinning her about, the monster pushed her back to the trunk of a hideously deformed beech tree. His eyes burned in a raging conflagration of primal lust and danced with the sparks of passions. There was so much she drew up in him, so many emotions that lay dormant that his body still craved.

"Oh yes." He replied in a panting growl, his voice heavy with want. "Yes indeed we have an accord."


	2. Belle

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing lovelies :3_

**~8~8~**

Cora's castle was a massive fortress of smooth obsidian that jutted out of the forest land like some monstrous horned head over the thick canopy of the accursed trees. All was dwarfed in comparison to her lavish stronghold. Taken from the king who originally scorned her for her low caste, she ruled the keep with an iron fist though everyone there was too rule had either perished or fled from the black talons of her abysmal wickedness.

Fanged spires jutted out from the ebony stone like the treacherous points on a demonic crown. The walls about her keep were a high, black barricade to repel the heartiest of foolish foemen. A large gate made of black rods gutted out in an arch of the wall like some voiceless, mouth wrenched in a scream shut out any intruders. Over time she had added and twisted the keep into some dark aberration of the castles former humble glory.

Much like her heart, the place was a thing of darkness and mutated hatred.

Crimson stained glass sat in every prominent window making the light that bore down upon them into a bloody hue that painted the inside with vile, ichorous illumination. The broad ramparts and turrets were draped intermittently with morbid banners of carrion birds, Cora's chosen pennants. The backdrop of the fabric was velveteen black and the image upon the crest was of a blacker raven, dark as the blackest night, with ruby eyes and a silver hooked beak ready to rend flesh.

The icon looked eerily alive. Fluttering in the vile winds, the images seemed that at any moment the birds stitched upon the pennants would fly off in a horrid flock of cawing death.

Though miles of overgrown, tangled and treacherous forest surrounded the ominous keep, nothing grew in the vicinity of the ominous stronghold. Old gnarled, blackened trees stood where once orange groves and lotus blossoms that bloomed richly every year were once trimmed and kept. The once tall and sturdy woods seemed akin to haggard old men bent double with the weight of age. What grass there was was brown and limpid around the base of trees and old out buildings falling into decay. Black rock mostly replaced what greenery there once had been.

"With an inviting place like this, it's a mystery why you don't get many guests." Rumpelstiltskin chirped in a happy trill as the witch flicked her hand and opened the large, maw like gates to her home.

The thick rods of black steel from the portcullis of the gate shot up, leaving them entry to the castle grounds and the keep itself. Only the desperate of desperate would dare near her grand castle. The walls alone were enough to make a man rethink what was so bad in his life. Her stronghold was enough to make the heartiest knight shirk his courage and slink away for life at some other daring feat.

"True, guests are sparse, so I do so hope you'll make yourself comfortable." Cora welcomed lightly, taking no offense to his all too true words. Rarely those who entered the maw of her keep ever came out to brave the perilous forest once more.

The corridors of her keep were arching vaults in a labyrinthine maze. Crimson runners of finest make, snaked about the halls like streams of blood upon the gray, cold stone. Torches sputtered and flickered in their stone scones delivering paltry light to the eternal blackness.

As she walked inside the long dark halls, she flicked her lace gloved hand to open the doors to the main hall in her castle. The room was wide and gilt, having not truly changed from the time of the king who bargained his son away for a wealthy bride.

"There is everything you need here." She explained to the silent Dark One slowly inspecting his surroundings. "My apothecary is yours, the dungeon, tower, the spell books -."

"And your bed?" He interrupted softly. Stealing up to her, he whirled the sorceress in his arms to face him. There wasn't much she could do for him in the ways of magic, but to have her darkness mingled with his…. Yes that was worth putting up with anything about her.

A wicked smile curved upon her vermilion mouth. "Of course, Rumpel. I thought that went without saying." Disentangling herself from his arms as through she were smoke he tried to clutch, she allotted him a wider smile. "Everything else is free to your use, all save the magical wards I've placed around certain places. Per our agreement I hope you don't take to meddle in my affairs."

"Not unless they're interesting." The fiend jested lightly but fully serious. Of course perhaps he would tamper, but only if her plots were worth tampering with. If she had her own schemes to ruin a kingdom, those things interested him none at all.

Anger over his aloofness flashed like a brand of heat in her bright, cruel eyes before simmering. Culling her emotions she sighed, her lips falling into an all-suffering smirk. "That's all there is to know. The castle has already made arrangement for your stay." She snapped her painted fingers as though forgetting something. "And one last thing. Should you need anything don not hesitate to call my slave."

Curiosity mildly painted his features. "You've a servant in a magical castle?" The fiend queried, all jest gone from his impish timbre.

"More a symbol really, but yes." She shrugged carelessly though her eyes glowed with wicked delight. "Slave!" The witch raised her voice with imperious elegance.

A door creaked on the side of the wide room even as her voice died away into the lurking shadows. Turning his attention to the activity, the Dark One pushed away the thoughts he dabbled with from Cora's words.

A young woman, for she was in no way a trifling girl, humbly walked forward, her head bowed subserviently. A dirty golden dress that was once fine donned her slender, unkempt body. Her brown honey hair was kept back though looked ratty and matted with dirt and oil from long days at merciless toil.

She tilted her head up faintly as though too curious to bear her enthralled burden, giving the Dark One a glimpse of her features. Her face was clean and her eyes glowed a sapphire blue; the hue of the loveliest gem.

He only saw them for a moment before she cast her eyes down, hiding her face from his curious inspection.

Scuttling forward, the slave girl stood before the powerful sorcerers. She seemed small and insignificant sized up against Cora's wicked grandeur.

"You called mistress?" She asked penitently, her hands clasped before her.

Cora proffered her hand to the Dark One. "This is Rumpelstiltskin. You will serve him as you serve me. He is your master now."

Her cerulean eyes flickered to him for but a moment once more before her eyes fell back to her feet. The girl bobbed her head in an understanding nod but said nothing more.

"Well?" Cora asked mildly, a brow arched austerely.

"Mistress?" The captive's voice broached hesitatingly with confusion.

Before the girl could move, the witch struck out like a venomous viper. Her delicate hand slapped against the side of the slaves head with a sharp sting. "Tea, stupid." She replied calmly, giving no hint of anger of impatience. "Go fetch us tea before I lose my good temper."

"Right away mistress." The servant girl backed away and scurried off hurriedly leaving the two sorcerers alone. Hands clutching the edges of her tattered dress from impeding her she made all haste away.

Ebon eyes following the girl, the Dark One stared until she disappeared that way she had come. "Where did you find her?" He inquired, intrigued. The girl did not seem some sort of mindless peasant or ensorcelled golem. Her words told of some well bred woman, and even with her head bowed she walked with nobility's grace.

"A deal I made." Cora sighed unconcernedly. "She was once a princess whose kingdom was in peril. She made a deal to be my slave to save her people."

Laughter hummed lightly from his throat. "Still terrorizing the nobility, Dearie?" A cruel smile twitched upon his mouth.

"My hobby." She chuckled pleasantly. Her black gloved fingers glided along his shoulders seductively. "One of many." Purred the witch.

Before the Dark One could reply in kind, the girl stole back in. A silver tray lay in her hands laden with the amenities for any lavish tea time. Ceramic blue and white bowls of sugar and cream rattled alongside two dainty cups and a matching kettle. Steam rose from the curved spout, sending the pleasant armor of chamomile drifting through the cold air.

Her fingers curled about the handles in a vice as she nervously watched the tray and her footing. Now above any time was not a moment for a wave of clumsiness to overtake her feet and hands.

Taking a seat in a high backed chair, the sorceress waved a languid hand to her captive. "Serve slave." She ordered casually.

Nodding obediently, her eyes still tenuously upon the gilded tray, the young woman began to pour the fragrant tea. Wisps of sinuous gray steam rose from the delicate painted cup as she poured carefully. Doctoring the tea to Cora's liking, she nervously handed over the drink.

For a brief moment she seemed not to breathe as the witch took a testing sip. Anxiousness forged upon her beautiful face in lines of barely suppressed terror. Cora was just so about things, if she didn't do them right that always meant more pain.

A silent breath of relief fled the girl's lips as the witch put down her cup and motioned for her to serve the Dark One. The tea was adequate at least.

Striding over to the other end of the long table, the beauty tremulously poured another cup. Her hands shook faintly but she clung to the small porcelain for dear life.

"Everything you do for me you shall do for our new houseguest." Cora explained and took another sip of tea. "Is there anything you'd like to add, Rumpel, some special chore that needs to be done?"

Steepling his gray-gold talons he stared at Cora. Mischief gleamed in his smooth sable eyes. "I'd like fresh straw delivered for my spinning wheel." He mentioned and flicked his eyes to the slave. Casually he added. "And do you think she can skin the children I hunt for their pelts?"

What!

A sharp crack from something breaking echoed guiltily near the slave girl. Frightened disbelief mingled with untold, disgusted horror danced upon her lovely face.

Skin little ones? Did he or Cora actually expect her to perform such a horrendous act for their dark magic's?

"That was a quip." He waggled a black nailed finger at her chidingly for believing him. "Not serious."

Relief shred the clouds of horror from her troubled visage as a giggle fled his mouth. Her heart began to beat normally again with the thought that his words were only a morbid joke to off kilter her. Now, the girl knew imperatively, she had bigger problems.

Kneeling nervously, she gently scooped up the tea cup. Brown liquid, still giving off steam, pooled on the wood floor and around one leg of the table in a puddle of warm brew. Looking at the mess, she prayed that was all the damage. But then, she knew, there had been a noise, a rather unpleasant sound that sent her heart racing once more. Somewhere in the back of her mind even as her brave heart stopped towards his words she remembered a distinct sound of porcelain cracking on wood.

With hands trembling she picked up the cup. Her heart dropped into the icy pit of her empty stomach as she turned the trinket around. A hair thin crack, veined against the side of the cup leading a trail to the gilded rim where a singular triangular piece was chipped off.

"What's the damage slave?" Cora added an extra lump of sugar to her tea, her tone bored.

Fingers roving the edged to the cup, the girl lifted the vessels nervously. "I'm so sorry, mistress but the cups chipped. It just a little thing, not really too bad. You can hardly see it." She cringed with every word as though expecting a blow to come down upon her defenseless head.

Cora had a way of making her pay, even if her trouble came by an accident. The cruel sorceress left no room for clemency or pity, especially to her once noble bred slave.

"Very clumsy of you slave." The witch remarked neatly, her hands folded upon the table.

She bobbed her head, not daring to protest. "Yes mistress, very clumsy of me."

"Still, I'm in a good mood and you didn't drop anything on a carpet." She spoke from the gilded rim of her cup. "Clean this mess up and toss that cup away, then back to your duties."

"Actually, I still want tea." The Dark One interjected in a soft croon.

Cora waved her hand inconsequently. "I can make you another."

"No trouble Cora." He nimbly slipped the cup out of the beauty's upraised hands. A spark jolted against his skin as his fingers brushed against hers. Thinking nothing of the errant jump, he let the cup swing by the handle on the tip of his index finger. A driblet of brown tea splashed upon the wooden table but nothing more.

He sniggered impishly. "The cup is still useful. Just a little cracked. I think it fits me perfectly."

"Have your oddities then Rumpel dear." Cora sighed insouciantly. Her eyes turned to the girl as she took another nip of tea. "Well clean up this mess slave then back to your duties."

The girl wiped her hands on her tattered golden dress. "Yes mistress." She bobbed a smart curtsey.

Helping himself to tea, the Dark One admired the chipped cup; a small novelty ofwelcome to the house of Cora. Taking a sip of his tea, the fiend slowly slipped into idle conversation with the sly witch, all the while his mind played with thoughts about the mysterious slave girl.

~8~8~

Darkness lorded over Cora's castle with a firm, evil hand of vile wretchedness. The moon never seemed to shine down upon the accursed keep, always keeping its pale face from gazing over the wickedness upon the forest. The trees once poor gnarled skeletons of former days, transformed into malformed demons stalking the land with knifelike claws and knobby roots to trip those unaware.

In the lonesome distance, a forlorn beast howled desperately to a moon that was not there. When the wind was still and the night was quiet, the palace reeked of dismay and death. The woods bordered her keep creaked with agony and somber plaintive rage.

Bright guttering torches sat in sconces inside the castle but little else to alleviate the dark blotted upon the stones. The haggard flames leapt and bit and clawed out viscously in their holders casting odd angular glows amongst the deepening shadows prowling the places no light could ever pierce.

Haunted crypts were more inviting than Cora's castle at night.

No wonder indeed Cora rarely had visitors, Rumpelstiltskin thought to himself. Sitting at his newly moved wheel, the fiend allowed the night time of the castle to seep into his very being. His wheel now took up a corner of Cora's main hall. In truth he would have moved the ancient wheel to a different location, but the main hall held the biggest fireplace, a mainstay of light for the cold, unwelcoming stronghold.

Had he been his old, cowardly spinner self he would have never thought of entering such a wretched place. Better to die than call such a stone mausoleum home. But now, the darkness welcomed him. The accursed showed him respect and feared him. Out of all the terrors of her land, he was the worst.

The thought gave him a hint of cocky satisfaction as he stared at the wheel. Yes, there was a certain pride for being the most feared thing in all the realms.

At the thought stirred his mind, a door on the other end of the room creaked open gently. The slave girl drifted inside, a delicate shadow in the castle. A tawny wicker basket swung on one arm laden with fresh golden straw.

"About time you got back with my straw." He replied in an annoyed huff.

The woman bobbed a deferent bow. "My apologies master, I had no notion where the mistress was going to keep the straw." She tenuously placed the basket by the wheel.

"Eh." He waved a hand brusquely at her anxious figure shooing her away. She wasn't worth the trouble to snap at her lateness. "Make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Yes master." She nodded rapidly and took a step back.

Stuffing the straw into the bronze pipe where it belonged for him to begin, he raised a hand. "But, since it did happen, something must be done."

From the side of his eye he saw the woman stiffen. Fear danced plainly in her gem-like eyes but she suppressed the terror within. Thoughts of pain sparkled so clearly in her depths he could read her misgivings as though she were a tome.

Scaled claws on the wheel, he turned the wood to a creaky start. "I'm always interested in new people. They're like a book I have yet to pry open and tear away their secrets. How long has Cora kept you enthralled?"

"Five years now, master." She replied dutifully to his inquiry. Pain crackled in her voice but she managed to subdue her agony.

He nodded faintly, absorbing the information. "Quite a deal you must have struck. What bargain did you hammer out with Cora?"

"I am her slave forever." She replied softly. Staring hard at her fingers the beauty fiddled with her calloused digits to fight away a blistering wave of dudgeon. "This was the only way."

The monster scoffed, his lips twisted into a cruel grin. "There is never such a thing." He replied. Fingers pinched he pulled forth the golden thread of his work. Usually he focused only on the gold but the brief conversation held a faint bit of interest.

"As you say master." She replied, not daring to disagree with the Dark One, but her tone declared otherwise. Hands folded together in front of her she bowed her head. "May I be dismissed then?"

"One more question." He remarked softly. Staring at the golden thread pooling like a thin coiled snake at his feet, he kept his tone light and uncaring. "What is you name slave?"

"Master?" Her words dripped with confusion. Consternation crinkled her brows into thin wrinkles.

The beast snorted irksomely. "A name. You have one don't you? Or did your parents fail to provide you with a title?"

"Oh. My name is Belle." She replied tentatively as though tasting the name upon her lips for the first time in a very long time. Since she arrived Cora just called her slave. The cruel name was the only one she'd heard in five long years.

Belle. The Dark One mused the pretty moniker over in his mind. Belle. Her name was simple, pretty, and even in her less that neat state fitted her. He had once made a jab at Cora's name. To him her name always sounded of something breaking or an expensive glass bibelot cracking. But Belle….

Shaking the thought from his mind, the fiend stared once more at the hypnotizing wheel. "Good enough. I have no more need of your aid. You may leave now slave."

A strange look donned upon Belle's features, but she nodded.

Why he had asked her her name, she wondered tiredly as she wove her way down to her dungeon. She was no one special now, so why care what she was called?

Upstairs, far parted from the slave girl by thick gray stones, the Dark One spun vapidly at his wheel. His pinched fingers tugged at the gold as the other turned the spokes. His midnight eyes looked absently at the wheel as his body did the work on instinct.

"Belle." He muttered in a deathly whisper. "Belle."


	3. Bravery

Morning broke gloriously over the accursed land of Cora's horrendous castle. Fierce crimson and vibrant damson blushed against the sky in stark ribbons that wound about the sun and painted the underbellies of creamy clouds. Blithe rays peeped through the foliage of the dark, encroaching trees and showered over the jutting fangs of the ominous citadel like light upon sword tips.

Wispy trails of mist rose from the sable palace stone in the face of the suns glorious blazing wrath. The brightness gleamed off the smooth onyx transforming the sordid black into a pallid silver sheen that deceived the eyes. Gray smoke from vents and chimneys rose in thin tendrils to a pure azure sky, hiding the keeps treacherous aura.

Gold broke through the somber forest in faint slants that did little to penetrate the dark canopy and give light to the woodland floor. Spider webs gleamed with diamonds upon their silver strands and intrepid beast scurried out of their holes. In the light of day, the frightful night was pushed back into the darkest of dens and corners leaving the forest enwrapped in dawn melancholy. The land moved in agony to awaken, but even as the accursed woodland stirred from slumber, death radiated from the forest.

Belle hummed in a faint, cheerful whisper to herself as she stalked vapidly through the castle of her malicious mistress. Navigating the long, forlorn stone corridors she took simple pleasure in pausing a while at the thin, arrow slit windows that flanked the halls on either side.

Bright warmth hit her skin in a welcome kiss that beat back the gloom in the castle for a few hours. Sun dappled her flesh from the shadow and the light, instilling a bit of cheer in her dreary mornings. Her silky chestnut hair danced with the luminance and glowed nearly a copper shine. A smile broke upon her face with the simple blessing of purest sun light.

The only windows without the dreaded crimson glass were the arrow slits long made to defend the keep from siege. Often if her cruel mistress wasn't awakened she dared take but a scant moment in time letting the golden rays hit her cheek and watch the lazy sun motes float to the cold gray stone of her eternal prison.

The world of her eternal slavery seemed not so bad with the sun slanting in through the windows giving light to the gray dankness and old runners that snaked about the castle floors in ruby trails.

In her low position she had to find a moment of peace and happiness where she could afford, even in little things. Cora detested the smaller things in life and enjoyed tormenting her slave when she was bored or saw that her captive found some sort of enjoyment. Belle was denied most things, but some wee treasures were so small, Cora could not even fathom her taking comfort in the moment.

In her cruelty to take every ounce of happiness from her slaves life, she would never think Belle cherished a simple ray of light from an ugly small window slit gouged in the stone on her way to begin her chores.

A regretful but thankful smile crossed Belle lips as she moved from the slash of gold upon the coarse gray stone wall. Once more in dreariest shadow she continued on her way. Even when Cora was still lying in bed, she could only linger a few heartbeats in the spear of sun.

If Cora ever caught her simply standing around that was more than sufficient grounds to let her malicious cruelty wantonly lash out. Of course Cora didn't need a reason to make miserable her slave, but she never missed an opportunity when the rare time she saw herself in the right to punish her so arose.

When she had first arrived Cora had once summoned a ravenous pack of wolves to chase her after a day of hard labor. She could barely move her stiff legs, her body bruised from being struck, but had to run in abject terror all for her mistress' amusement.

At that moment as she begged for the magic to cease, she knew the woman would never show an inkling of kindness to her nor let her have any happiness.

And now there was another one.

At the thought of the Dark One, the beauty sighed lugubriously. A groan tumbled from her mouth as she slogged wearily into the larder and kitchens. Wearily running a hand through her thick tresses, the beauty silently cursed her lot as she had the first night in Cora's detested keep.

First she had to deal day to day with Cora the cruel and now the Dark One of all people!

Legend told that the Dark One taught the cruel Cora how to perform her sinister magic. Rumors upon the wind whispered they were so like minded they had become lovers long ago. If the rumors were true how terrible was the teacher and lover compared to the student?

A shudder slithered up the beauty's spine at the horrid thought. What if he, this knew and yet ancient dark lover of Cora's, was worse than she? What if he made Cora's abject cruelty look kind in comparison?

Still, she argued to herself, ever willing to look on the bright side even in her dim prospects of forever as a slave, he had not been terrifying last night. The Dark One did not try to test her or deliver a cruel jest, even when she was late with his load of straw. He nearly got her punished for the cup incident, but she didn't think he meant to get her in trouble.

Thoughts whirling, the beauty bent down and stirred the still warm ashes in the hearth with a heavy iron poker. Heat faintly whispered from the iron belly and a low glow lingered beneath the gray ash like her troubled thoughts. Adding fuel to the thin, intrepid tongues of flames, she set to the monotonous task of preparing breakfast for her mistress, and now her master.

She had never been a fine cook, and Cora had been vocal and abusive about that enough, but over the years she had learned many a skill she would have never been privy to harness as a princess. Albeit she had learned the trades to survive and to relieve the beatings at Cora's hand, but she knew them well enough.

Putting on the heavy, black iron kettle of water, the enslaved woman took out dough she had stowed away and shaped them into loafs. The sticky mass was a faint touch of yellow and big enough to make two fairly sized loafs. Cora wanted fresh bread daily and she was particular about how she had her loaves. She could tell if the bread was a day old or hours old.

Grimacing, Belle instinctively massaged a portion of her left arm as though reliving an old memory. She had learned not to try to trick Cora the hard way.

Diligently kneading and molding the bread into form, she slipped the dough into an oven she took fresh berries and a wedge of pasty white cheese from a cool cupboard. Cora wasn't very big on breakfast, something the beauty thanked any star of luck she still had left twinkling in the heavens for.

Slicing the cheese and putting the berries in a bowl she prayed the simple meal and tea would be sufficient for the morning. She had no clue what the new member of the castle was particular in eating, but she hoped he was as unconcerned as Cora.

~8~8~

Light crept tenuously into the windows of Cora's chambers in waves of soft, oblique gold. Streams of warmth tricked through the thin, gauzy curtain upon her red windows that turned the light from gold and into a thick vermilion hue.

Brave birds chirped along the castle turrets and the dead trees. The world was fresh and new and alive!

Cora hated mornings.

Screwing her eyes shut the witch put up a hand in front of her face to block out the sun. "Blast the light." She hissed almost like a curse. "One day I'll figure out a way to paint the sun black as night."

Mornings still reminded her of her life before magic and meeting the Dark One. Her old life revolved around rising with the sun and grinding other people's goods whilst her drunkard of a father frittered away the little money they made with his head in a keg of sour ale. She was always the first up and the last to go to bed.

"Still no lover of the dawn I see." Rumpelstiltskin trilled merrily in reply. Padding close to the ostentatious bed, he blocked the light with his skinny figure and he smiled down on the witch. "You never did like rising early. Nasty habit for a simple miller's daughter."

Cora could have cursed at his ever cheerful chirp. Fighting the urge to conjure a spiked pillow and toss the deadly missile in his direction she drowsily sat up on her elbows. Her eyes quickly adjusted and found the fiend next to the bed.

Fresh faced and smiling like a mad man, he looked as though he'd been up for hours. A twinkling impishly danced in his solid obsidian depths. His clothes, now brown brocade but no less flamboyant, donned his figure along with tight black leather pants and knee high black boots.

Canting her head to the left she side as her almond eyes sized him up like he was a delicious sweet. Certainly he had seemed so last night on top of her. His love making had not changed with all their time apart. He was still just as dark and angry as ever.

"Why up so early?" She groaned sleepily and held out her hand for him to grasp. "Come back to bed. What's the hurry?"

Her naked form moved sensuously under the thin silver coverlet. Every curve formed beneath the diaphanous sheet, leaving nothing to the imagination.

The bed beneath her was one of the highest quality. Plump goose down filled the ivory colored mattress and silver silken sheets and pillows flooded the wide bed. Comfort was something Cora had always wanted and now she had every luxury at her fingertips. No luxury was ever spared with the need came to her relaxation.

His dexterous claws twitch covetously as he fixed the last brown button on his jerkin. The sight of her lounging away in the luxurious bed was a temptation to his senses. "I have far away business to attend Dearie." He informed her with a small grin showing rows of yellowed and black teeth. "Besides I'm starving."

"I usually eat later, but I can have the slave bring us something up." The witch yawned politely behind a small, magic worn hand.

The Dark One hummed to himself, toying with the contemplation inwardly. Cora was a delight he had too long been away from. He could save himself a few moments longer from his tasks, but no, he reminded himself, business first, always first.

"Sorry Dearie." He bowed deeply. "Another time perhaps."

Hiding her agitation she flicked her hand to him as though sending away a lover. "As you wish."

Leaning over the bed he bent down caught her up in an explosive kiss. Hot breath ghosted against her flesh as he looked into her devilish eyes. "Later." He swore in a husky whisper. "I promise."

Satisfied with his response her agitation melted into a puddle of sleepiness. Turning away she once more lost herself in the coverlets and silk.

Staring down upon her, the fiend felt his dark heart glow with lascivious lust. The urge to kiss her all over her body pulsed hotly in his veins. There was something about Cora, so deliciously malevolent he could hardly restrain himself from being far away.

Suppressing the thought the monster sharply turned away. Determination wrinkled his scaled visage into a grim frown. If he stayed any longer he was as like to toss his plans to the wind and pounce upon her.

Though he could have summoned himself down to the Main Hall, the Dark One strode out the door. A habit of his was to get associated with a place first. If he was to live with Cora then he should know the castle by foot.

Drafty coldness bit at his skin from the long, forlorn hall of gray stone as he stepped out, but he didn't mind. The faint tempting aroma of freshly cooked bread sailed upon the draft from the kitchen, making his stomach roil with need. He had not been lying when he said he was hungry.

Taking a deep breath, the fiend traversed down the halls letting the scent of freshly backed bread lead him to the lower tiers of the ominous castle.

~8~8~

Belle's stomach growled in empty displeasure of some ravenousness wolf as she took the fat loaves of bread from the oven with a paddle. Wisps of fragrant steam danced around her alert senses making her stomach ache with a hard pang. Though she cooked, she cooked for Cora alone and her mistress never cared if there were leftovers. Usually there was something left after every meal, but sometimes, like yesterday's supper with the Dark One, there was not.

"Smells divine, Dearie!" The Dark One exclaimed, tittering closely in her ear.

Surprised, Belle jolted forward, her hips hitting the large stone table in the larder. The wooden paddle holding the bread careened forward but landed on the stone tabletop. Like some peculiar disks launched in a game, the warm loaves skidded to the edge of the table. They came to the very cliff, wobbling on the precipice, but remained.

Relief flooded the enslaved beauty as she grabbed for the warm bread and brought the loaves to safety. Placing the warm bread back on the paddle she wiped her sweating brow with the back of her wrist.

Blood raced wildly through her veins, making her heart leap with lightening. That could have been a disaster of the worst sort. Heaven knew what Cora would have wrought upon her defenseless slave without her regular breakfast.

Swiveling to face the Dark One, her eyes cobalt blazed with anger. A biting retort tingled on her tongue. Did he know how much trouble he could have just gotten her in!

In a moment the horrid thought of snapping at him fled from her pounding blood like frost against a summers sun. This was her master now, Cora's teacher, the Dark One; she would be a fool to reprimand him or deliver the ire brewing in her fluttering heart.

Biting her tongue she bent her neck respectfully, her word soft and cowed. "The mistress has new bread every morning." She replied as though he had not nearly cost her some punishment.

"Good." He hummed in a slight trill. "Lovely stuff freshly cooked. I'll have that with tea."

She nodded studiously. "I'll bring you a plate in the main hall."

"No need. I can eat here." He flourished his gray- gold talons about the warm kitchen and to a stool by the stone table. There were times for pomp and grandeur but a simple breakfast did not call for such bother.

He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten in his great hall in the Dark Castle. When he did eat his meals were either a quick bite in the kitchen or a plate in his apothecary.

Laughter, wondrous and soft, bubbled unexpectedly from Belle's lips. A thin smile traced her lush mouth at his absurdity. "The mistress would have my skull for a tankard if you ate here." Abruptly, as though she just recognized the strange merriment toward her new master, her laughter ceased. What was she thinking to laugh so suddenly at him? Would he think she was laughing at him?

A frown formed on her mouth as she looked down. "I mean… the mistress wouldn't approve."

Staring at her, the fiends eyes pinioned interestingly on the beauty. A small inkling of her… Belle had slipped out from her formality of a servant for just a brief instance.

The tiny window was an intriguing one. A woman enthralled to a cruel witch still found the wherewithal in her to laugh. Most would have been bitter slaves taking every turn to curse their captors not indulge in laughter.

"Fine." He finally remarked slowly. "I'll take my meal in the main hall, slave. Be quick."

"Would you care for your tea in your chipped cup?" The beauty queried delicately. She had no clue where the words came from only that they seemed right she should ask. He had wanted the cup after all.

The chipped cup? He'd forgotten about the little bibelot since the end of tea but the mention of the strange trinket brought his mind back. How had she remembered something so useless; a moments little oddity?

He shrugged laconically, feigning insouciance to hide his surprise. "I think I will."

She bobbed a curtsey. "It'll be but a moment."

Satisfied, the Dark One winded his way through the seemingly endless, drab corridors of Cora's castle. Finally the labyrinth led to the main hall. Opening the door, the Dark One was greeted by a lounging Cora.

Dressed in a silver gown, the incorrigible sorceress sat rigidly in her high-backed chair. The witch donned a painted smile as she languished in her soft seat. "Having fun exploring, Rumpel?"

"You know I like to get acquainted with places." He purred like some big cat, his voice dripping with innuendo. "_Lots _of places."

Her smile wormed its way into a ruby smirk. "Since you awoke at such an abysmal hour, I thought I might as well join you so we can talk of more serious things. I'm making plans, Rumpel. Big plans. Wonderfully destructive big plans."

"Do tell, Dearie?" An impish, curious grin donned his lips. There was something feral about his smile, like rabid wolf's lips frozen into an arch.

Even as the words left his mouth a side door swung open. The brown haired beauty gracefully entered, tea tray in her calloused grip. Her body slammed to a halt to see Cora in her usual chair so early. Porcelain heaped with fresh food rattled but remained in place. Panic momentarily contorted her features before she tucked her fear away.

Tilting her head down submissively, the brown haired beauty inched tensely towards the table. The delicate items on the tray shook as she gently laid down the goods for the Dark One. "Forgive me mistress. I knew not that you'd be up. I'll fetch breakfast right away." She apologized.

Cora flicked a hand in her direction. The girl winced as though expecting to be struck but remained where she was. "See that you do, slave."

Quickly the girl turned to set forth to her mistress command. Relief filled the beauty with a graceful wave. The mistress didn't seem in a dangerous mood today.

"Wait." Cora stopped her before she could even take a step.

Atremble, Belle turned back to her mistress. What had she done so early to anger her mistress?

Displeasure stamped across the witched cruel, angular visage as she motioned to the laden, silver tray. "I thought I told you to be rid of that cup. Are you deaf as well as stupid now?"

"I asked for it." Rumpelstiltskin broke in before he even knew what he was doing. Both ladies turned their eyes to him. Leaning back in his chair he motioned to the cup. "I told you Cora I liked my little chipped treasure. I asked for that cup specifically."

That hadn't been the truth, but his words might as well have been. Had he remembered he would most certainly have asked for the cup. What difference did the slave girl reminding him make?

"Oh very well." Annoyance snapped in her voice. Irked she took her ire out on the beauty. "Well get going slave! My breakfast will not serve itself!"

Nodding swiftly Belle dipped out leaving the sorceress to themselves.

Soothing herself the witch grinned with venoms pleasantness. "Now where were we?"

"Something about disaster." Rumpel giggled alluringly, his mouth twisted into a thin smile.

Cora nodded, her smile renewed. "Deals have gotten scarce, Rumpel. The good fairies ranks have been bolstered. The kingdoms have settled mildly and ogres have been driven back to their marsh. This world is too peaceful… to…." Her lips twisted in a disgusted sneer. "_Happy_." She spat the word like poison upon her snakes tongue. "It is high time this world bent their necks and cowered to pain. I plan to give us both so many desperate souls, we will relish in their cries. Happiness' reign is long overdue to perish. Misery is the only true state of being for those who are weak."

"As for myself, I can't argue with you there." Trilled the Dark One. He languidly flourished his spindly talons. "But I dare suppose everyone else would not be so inclined to your thinking."

"Then they're wrong." She stated flatly just as Belle slipped back into the room. The girl was a specter floating nervously on the shadows as she came forth. Crossing her legs and ignoring the slave girl, the witch stared intently upon the Dark One. "Misery infects the weak. We both know this very well."

To prove her point she tilted her head up to the silent slave girl. "You are miserable here, toiling away day after days with no chance of seeing family or friend again." Cora stated matter-of-factly. "You aren't happy. Do you believe others who are as pitiful and weak as you deserve to be joyous? Only the strong deserve happiness. This weak world doesn't deserve anything that will please them, does it slave?" She crooned mockingly to the beauty.

Staring down at the tray, the blue eyed servant focused on the gilded tea pot wafting up steam. Diligent fingers curled tightly over the silver handles of the tray to keep her hands from trembling. Her mouth clamped shut stoically though fear pulsed from her slender form. An aura of stalwart determination bound her soul and echoed off her skin like knights armor.

A frown melted Cora's assured grin. Her eyes narrowed into thin, serpent slits upon the beauty like an eagle with prey in sight. "I asked you something slave." Her words hissed viciously, brimming with danger.

"Everyone deserves to be happy." Belle whispered clearly, daring to flash an askance glance at the witch. Her words were soft but dripped defiance. Though she was a slave she would not surrender her beliefs.

Anger sprang to Cora heart at the rebellious words from her beautiful slave. Jumping from her chair she met the girl face with the back of her hand.

Pain erupted in dizzying spirals in Belle's skull as the blow rent her senses asunder. Fire bloomed hotly in her cheek, biting mercilessly at her skin. Blood oozed from the left corner of her trembling mouth.

Miraculously she managed to stay aright though she wobbled from the fierce strike. Awash with pain, she dared not look at her mistress nor touch the wound. To stay still was the best route for the storm to wash over her.

Fury danced as sparks in her eyes as Cora stared at the rigid beauty. "Stupid… insolent little noble chit. Did you think that was brave of you? Did you think defying me would gain you anything?"

Breath heaved from her flaring nostrils like some angered dragon. She looked about to deal a second blow to the helpless slave girl.

Instinctively, Belle braced, her eyes closed and body stiff. Now that she knew what was coming she could resign herself to the blows.

Suddenly, almost manically, the cruel sorceress' ire soothed. Like a freak wind she transformed back to her partly smiling self. Dropping her hands she stared almost sweetly at the beauty. "Well your rebellion has gained you something." She smiled cruelly at the trembling slave. "You've earned a day scrubbing the dungeon stairs. Every inch of them. You can kiss goodbye any scant minutes of free time you ever had for the day. I will know your every step. And if you pause but for a small rest, save when I let you leave to crawl your little cage, I will break your neck and toss you out for food for the wolves."

Silent as death the beauty stood humbly taking Cora's darts thrown at her fatigue and stalwart heart. Not daring to speak she nodded as Cora finished her pleasantly malicious punishment.

Satisfied the witch let the tributary of her explosive anger flow free. Victory curved upon her lips in a ruby crescent. "I'll take breakfast in my apothecary so you can get to work slave." She smirked cruelly. "Rumpel join me when you can."

With her will spoken, the witch disappeared and with her half of the tray.

Nursing the fragrant tea the Dark One chuckled carelessly into the rim of his cup. Who knew mornings in Cora's castle outside of her luxurious bed could be so entertaining? Cora still indeed had a temper but this slave girl had something lurking deep inside her as well. Spirit, rebellion, defiance, she still held those somewhere past the obedient slave and cowed servant.

"You could have just agreed you know." He commented lightly behind the rim of his chipped cup. His black talons drummed against the crack in the trinket. "You didn't' have to mean your words, but arguing perhaps would have saved you pain."

"I won't." Belle sighed simply as she took up the tray once more. Defiance steeled her words to a swords edge.

Her back already ached with the coming pain of her chore, but she gladly took on the agony. Better to be in pain than submit to Cora what was not in her heart. The witch had taken many things, her pride and her freedom, but she would never have her beliefs or her spirit.

The Dark One quietly huffed a thoughtful laugh. Mist swirled about his face in mystical pattern as he smiled. "Brave." He commended lowly as she departed.

Smiling thoughtfully, the Dark One mused upon what had just transpired against Cora, the cruelest woman he knew. The girl had defied her, knowing she would be punished for her words but still had chosen pain. She had stood her ground against a mistress that could work a thousand dark enchantments upon her and had not bat an eye. That was brave if nothing else.

Oh yes, he nodded inwardly to himself, the word sticking out like a beacon. This Belle creature was most certainly brave.


	4. A Hint of Kindess

The deplorable steps of ageless time the cruel Cora punished Belle to scrub were long gray slabs cut from the craggy rock of the cold earth far beneath the keeps gilded surface. These steps leading to the foul dark dungeons of the witch were never hewn for smoothness like those in the castle proper. Jagged edges and grainy striations with the feel of razor steel along the barren skin heavily lined the rock. The stairs descended in a long spiral leading to the sordid bowels of the keep like a throat leading to the stomach of blackest Hades.

Torches few and far between sat in their mold strewn niches along the walls of the plunging coil. Low flames bickered sharply in their stone pew as frigid drafts of hopelessness gusted through to the blackness of the dungeons. Light bore down insipidly upon the gray stones and turned the shadows into cutting daggers in midst of the dimness. Once the stairs reached a certain point even the flames were not enough to bite back against the prowling blackness. Darkness ruled the territory of ill hope and lorded little rays to penetrate the deathly kingdom.

The dungeons had been no place any criminal wished to find himself when the castle was governed by the true king and even less so with Cora as mistress of the accursed stronghold. Death called the cells home and offered no respite of gladness in the eternal black.

An exhausted groan tumbled poignantly from Belle's mouth as she dipped her stiff fingers back into a wooden bucket of gray, cold water. Dirty suds sloshed over the notched wooden rim, adding another sopping mess to her drenched golden dress.

Pain throbbed pointedly throughout the beauty's entire body in pulsing torment that racked her worn figure. Her back pounded with agony from being bent over so long on her enormous task. Her knees were raw and red with the epidermis long gone. Heaviness burdened her slender arms as though boulders were clapped to her appendages and her muscles burned with lashes of fire.

Blood tinged the pallid skin of her knuckles telling that her knees had not been the only ones to succumb to the rough stairs. Cora in her ever cruel state of being did not have mobs of scrub brushes. She allowed her servant only rags in which to task her toil for the maximum pain she could instill upon her slave girl while she tended to other matters of magic and malice.

The coarse, hard stone like the mistress who owned the keep, was merciless upon her body.

There had been no reprieve all the day, for Cora had conjured her luncheon and supper to her alone, leaving Belle to tend the cruel chore without an inkling of rest for body or spirit.

Pushing away the thought along with the regret that welled in her tired heart from her abject stubbornness, the beauty focused on the last of the strenuous task. Her scarred fingers, white and shriveled, gripped the mass of filthy brown rags in a frigid vice as she scrubbed with what little strength still remained in her body. She had to keep going, if just to save more pain in the ever looming future.

Steadied by the thought, her body rocked with the rhythmic motion of painful toil. She had to finish, she had too.

Abruptly, her hand slipped from the dirty rags hold. Her knuckles slammed into the slab of stone before the one she tended to in a sharp rap. The rough stone, unforgiving did the job the mistress desired well. Hot, blistering pain erupted in her openly bleeding knuckles like salt in an open gash.

Biting down on her bottom lip, the beauty forced away tears from her azure gaze but dared not stop. She was nearly done and Cora could very well tell when Belle dared to rest. Every tenuous breath she took when not scrubbing was taken in peril, for Cora was not a woman to disobey in word or action.

A droplet of hot blood streamed from her lips as the pain boiled in her hands, but she did not cry out. Doing so would give Cora the cruelest of satisfaction.

Tears brimmed hotly in her sapphire orbs as she worked through the abject pain in her miserable lot. Her tears fell in scalding drop upon the damp, blood tinged stone and trailed down her cold cheeks in trails of warmth taken quickly by the winds. "Almost done." She whispered beneath her breath to spur herself on. "Almost."

Finally, after an entire day she came to the end of the last stair. Cora knew the stairs could be finished in a day from dawn to twilight of hard labor. There could never be an excuse that the steps were too many. She expected them all to be done and some days for Belle to be finished early.

Fatigue shuddering through her skinny limbs Belle stood up, her chore finally at the close. Her burning extremities trembled with a vicious quaking from being in one position so long. The muscles rebelled to her movement. Her legs felt like jelly and trembled in peril of dropping her.

Wobbly, she leaned her slender form on the cold black wall for support. The coolness of the stone did little to dampen her pain, but the frigid stone felt good knowing her work was at its dusk. Her bones popped in protest and her back screamed as she acclimated to standing again.

Finally, she was done, her punishment over.

Tiredly, she let the rags fall into the black, blood stained water. The last of the filthy liquid sloshed over the rim and into cracks forged upon the stone, but the beauty was beyond caring. Coalescing her flagged strength like remnants of some broken glass, Belle clung to the wall and lethargically climbed the winding steps she'd been bound to scrub. Her worn hands glided over the smoothed stone to lead her path and steady her limbs. Once or twice she stumbled but she refused to halt. Even then Cora could have been waiting to ambush her and punish her again for resting.

Such was her existence. For surely her being was no true life.

The temptation to simply crawl in her cell down at the end of the steps tugged the cords of her heart, but she could only go when Cora dismissed her. The witch would probably never let her sleep again if she did something so blatant.

Her only hope now was Cora did decide she could do little else. But then again Cora would never be so kind. There was always one more task with Cora, one more burden upon her slaves back to see when she would stumble and bend with the weight upon her shoulders.

Dispirited with thoughts of the cruel witch, another name came to mind in her weary brain; a spear of light through the murky slough. Though the thought was odd, she hoped that the Dark One was there instead of Cora. Perhaps he would be kinder than his malicious lover.

~8~8~

A yawn fled Cora's ruby mouth as she stoppered the last vial of a new potent serum in her apothecary.

One room her slave was never allowed to clean, the apothecary was a place where she could harness the magic's that could be bottled like Rumpelstiltskin had taught her all the years before.

Wooden shelves that shot high to the towers spire lined the stone walls. A window she'd once dared look down from the dizzying height in her peril was paned with crimson glass. The fireplace glowed bright, casting the room in enough brightness to work by and enough to keep the darkness close. Stone work tables of ancient days sat upon the center and vellum tomes scattered about the corners and edges of the table.

A gnarled wooden perch of beech made for her pet crow sat nearest the maw-like stone hearth. Upon the top of the twisted timber, a bird of blackest ebony sat hunched into the darkness. The oily sleek feathers mingled with shadow and cloaked the fowl in treacherous sable. His beak even was a glossy onyx revealing no hint of him from shadow. Only the golden eyes could be seen when he opened the lids to his demonic sight.

Once the tower was a prison she was meant to spend her last night with a spinning wheel and a heap of straw and now the room was used to surge her devious plans and trades onward.

There was a certain poetic irony in the thought that made a smile twitch at her pursed mouth from time to time.

Spell worn fingers delicately pinching the neck of the bottle, the witch held up the phial to her cat-like gaze and she inspected the powerful concoction freshly brewed. The amphora's thick glass glowed an iridescent green. Syrupy fluid that roiled and popped, bubbling hazardously. Tenuously she swirled the contents and cocked her head to the left to inspect the liquid closer.

"Elixir of Saproot." Rumpelstiltskin expertly snatched the phial from her fingertips as he appeared in the tower all in the same smooth motion. Purple smoke still misted away from his gray-gold skin from his impromptu arrival as he hefted the bottle plucked so quickly from her hands.

An impish smile of mischief tilted his lips as he held the bottle precariously by its brown cork. His free hand unfurled and displayed the bottle like some peddler hawking expensive wares. "One drop can easily lay a dragon low." He tittered with glee.

Holding back a sigh, the witch stared at him with an inkling of frustration. Her lips pursed in an unpleasant line. "I see you're back." She snipped tartly. "Did you enjoy your trip?"

"A trip to Wonderland is never enjoyable." He remarked crisply, his voice disapproving and humor vanished. His hands fell back to his sides, his jester's wit forgotten. Bereft of all humor he turned from her.

Out of all the places he could go, Wonderland was his least favorite. The topsy-turvy place evokes memories of his son he'd rather soon forget.

When he'd first garnered magic, he had taken his son to the wild, unforgettable land. The wide eyed lad had experienced an entirely new world, most would never dream of. They had enjoyed a day of fun watching the strange creatures from afar and spying the animals that called the place home. The realm of oddities indeed left a sore spot that would never heal drilled upon his heart.

Unfortunately, magical items he could not collect in his realm all seemed to flourish there. But then, Wonderland was the land of ironies.

Sliding her hands against his thin shoulders, the witch grinned lasciviously up at him. His body tensed beneath her touch, helpless to the pads of her fingers. Her fiery eyes smoldered wantonly as her body closed in to his. Behind him, she leaned her head upon his shoulder. "Well, I can help you with that." She ran her thin, dexterous fingers against his brocade vest teasingly, touching each silver button, her words alluring from her scarlet mouth.

Slowly so that she would not get the wrong idea, the fiend broke apart her hold. Bedding her now was the last thing on his mind. He couldn't, not with so many memories swooping through his head. "Not just yet, Cora." The Dark One replied mildly.

A glimmer of abject fury sparkled in her eyes at his rejection. How dare he spurn her advance. "Already tired of me Rumpel." Offence laced her bitter tone.

"Never that." He assured faithfully. "But there are things in Wonderland I'd rather not recall.

Displeased knowing stamped across her narrow features. "So you're going to spin?" The words brimmed with bile laced accusation. Why was the matter so important for him to spin? Why did he have to forge useless gold? Why would he chose his spinning over her?

"A little." He tried to assuage her offence. "Then we can move on to more pleasant matters."

Her lips curled into a tight grin. She was angry, they both knew, but there was no way she could make him not turn his wooden wheel. There was a better chance in the sun plummeting from the sky and crashing into the moon. "Alright. As long as you're down there tell that worthless slave she is dismissed for the night."

Turning upon his heel, the fiend crashed his lips into hers passionately. A he pulled away, he departed much better knowing Cora awaited him at his leisure. Though she was angry, they seemed to make fantastic love when one or both of them was enraged. But at the mention of Belle, his thoughts diverted to the night ahead. There were still so many questions he had about her. Part of him wished to ask Cora, but he knew that unwise. First he wanted to spin and then ask about her slave girl? No, not even he was that brave.

Winding down the castles labyrinth halls he finally made it to his wheel. Just as he entered from one door, so did the beauty.

Surprised, the fiend too a step back at her sudden entry. Uncertainty twitched against his skin and crawled across his flesh. Even though he knew she was near she managed to off kilter him with her sudden presence. Something about her made his dark heart leap and that was no mean feat.

She looked terrible, he witnessed at first glance. Pale, crusted blood splattered the dirty gold of her tattered finery of days long gone by. Large splotches of her essence congregated at knee length of her ruined gown. Her legs all but trembled beneath the dull gold rags of her gown. By the look of her all she wished was to crawl into some corner and curl up with her wounds.

"Do you need anything?" She asked softly, her words all but begging him to say no. In her condition she couldn't do much.

As she padded closer to the well the fiend could see the extent of the damage her punishment for disagreeing with Cora had wrought. The skin on her knuckles was all but departed, leaving mottled red streaks and vibrant blood upon pale pink under-flesh dappling the torn skin that remained. Her knees had to be killing her, he knew but could not see but for the red splotches on her dress and a few places of fresh tears from her laborious toil.

If the blood was any clue to go on, for her to stand must have been utter torment. How her back must have screamed and her bones ached. The work Cora gave was back breaking labor meant never to be tackled and reaped no reward of any sort. No one was trying to impress a king with stairs that descended to a foul prison of no return for most. The work was as much inward punishment than outwards; all her hard work, all her blood would never matter. No matter what she believed none of her cherished spirit mattered. That was the price for defying Cora.

Staring at her enraptured in misery, he might have been tempted to feel something for her if his own demons were not rising from the crags of his tired mind. Being in Wonderland evoked terrible memories from him. Memories he cursed and cherished all at once.

Shaking his head faintly to rid his features of surprise, he strode over strongly to his wheel. He had been gawking like a village simpleton at her as his mind worked. "Fetch me a basket of straw." The fiend eased down to the stool by his wheel. Wood creaked under his weight as he made himself comfortable. "Then you are dismissed."

Nodding, the amber haired beauty turned and set to task. At least he wanted nothing major. In her state she didn't even think she could make a pot of tea.

Her body flinched as she took a step towards the door. Pain shot all through her body hitting every nerve and stiff joint rusted in her figure. Cora did not mean for pain to be a brief assault, she meant pain to last for a good while upon those who displeased her.

"Wait." His rough voice warily stopped the beauty. Staring hard at the spokes of his wheel, he sighed as though giving into to some inward thought. His eyes burned holes into the wooden wheel. Bae would have wanted him to, he excused to his depravity. "You're apt to get blood all over my straw the way you are." Waving his hand, magic came eagerly to his service. The darkness that lurked within barked at his sudden action, but he chose to ignore the vileness coiled about his ugly heart.

Magic hummed through the air in a wave of power. In an instant purple mist enveloped the beauty's hands.

Hands out forward, Belle watched in amazement as she felt warmth from the fog of damson seep into her flesh. Skin tingled with an effect never before felt. Through the mist a light aura tinted her hands. She could feel skin coming together and settling.

The feeling lasted for but a tense moment before dying away. Slowly, the mist trailed away, taken by the frigid draft of the keep.

In a blink of an eye the raw, scarred skin on her knuckles and knees was healed. Flesh, full and whole and without gnashing agony lay once more renewed on her body. No raw pink was to be seen. A bit of pain still lingered from the cuts and gashes but not the agony there had been.

In awe, she turned her hands over and over. Each time she expected to see gashes and marks an each time she saw renewed skin.

Before she could turn around to thank him he snapped. "Get to work slave, I don't have all night!"

Obediently, Belle dove to her task. She flew down the darkened hall like a flitting ghost upon an errand from hades maw. The firelight barely had time to dance in her chestnut mane as she floated on his behest. Her mind swirled with shock as she gathered bushels of straw from the simply stone room and stuffed them into the basket. For a brief moment in time she had thought the magic might have been a dream, but with every ticking minute the lack of pain in her hands and knees told of the magic wrought upon her scarred skin to seal her wounds and deliver health.

In no time she was back in the main hall of the mistress, a light wicker basket heaped with straw swinging on her arm.

Placing the basket by his wheel, she fought back a hiss of pain as her back throbbed. He hadn't taken all the pain away and that area would certainly hurt the worst for the next few days.

Swallowing down the large lump of agony she backed away. Her healed hands clasped in front of her in silent inquiry she dared not speak aloud.

Though her body throbbed in torture she could not help but notice is despondency. Sadness laces his visage as he plucked up stalks of golden straw and shoved them into place along his wheel. Melancholy surrounded him in a shroud, but what could make the most powerful man alive so plaintive?

"Is something wrong?" She dared to ask tremulously, unable to keep her insatiable curiosity at bay.

His spindly talons stopped before making contact with the wheel. Surprise sprang in him a second time laying him low. He thought he had hid is emotions quite well from the hard world before his pain. Cora hadn't been any wiser in the face of his lugubrious nature.

How could she, this assiduous slave girl, so easily discern his listless feelings?

"You still got blood on my straw." The Dark One muttered sullenly, looking for any excuse. Head bowed, he stared intently upon the wooden wheel as thought the ancient spinners tool would burst into flames.

A ruddy blush involuntarily tinted her cheek. "Oh."

"See that it doesn't happen again." He growled dangerously in a sneer, his mind unsure why he had just taken the raw skin away. Cora would most certainly have not condoned the near kindness he allotted to her rebellious slave girl. She would have been furious to know he had done such a thing.

Tossing the though away, the fiend flicked a dismissive hand at the beauty. "Away with you now."

"Oh… yes of course." She bobbed a deferent curtsey. "Good night, master. And… thank you."

Staring at his wheel he pretended not to hear. Gazing at the hypnotic spinning spokes turning in their mindless blur to weave away his pain, his mind ambled away with the thoughts he was trying to forget and why he had healed her.

For the life of him he could not discern why.

Perhaps he would have to let Cora down and not come to bed as once claimed, he supposed as the straw transformed into a strand of glittering gold. The cord twisted upon its way down to the floor, much like his expectations to bed the witch. Tonight looked to be a long night of drowning thoughts and contemplating others far more troublesome.


	5. Aid

Pain awakened Belle long before the glorious sun crested over the cursed forest the next day. Pale black and blue bruises mottled her marred creamy flesh in an array of hurts mettle out by the unforgiving stone. The flesh was tender and hurt with but the slightest pressure against her skin. Wounds garnered from the toil of yesterday pulsed with every beat of her stoic heart. Her head swam with flares of despotic torment but tenuously settled in the calmness of the black hours of morn.

After the Dark One dismissed her she had all but stumbled in the groping throes of agony down the freshly cleaned stairs. The cleaned spiral of dark desperation, tainted with blood led to only one place she could find solace in the torments of her vastly cruel mistress - her room. The "room", as Cora first mockingly called the wretched place, in so taunting a manner was nothing more than a foul little dungeon cell nearest the long stairwell.

A single, low, insipid flame in a sconce flickered at the base of the ominous stairwell allowing Belle to see the door in the bottomless darkness every night instead of groping about the dark for the maw of her prison. Three black, slimy walls composed the only home she had known for five arduous, hellish years. Nary a chink or inkling or rubble bedecked the thick walls that led up forever to the dark ceiling. Not even rats entered her cell, for their was not a crack or crevice out in the smooth coffin.

The oaken door was at least a hand width thick and stood like a slab of mountain to bar her freedom. Heavy dark iron dotted with steel rivets banded the door like chains over a torso. The portal was locked with a heavy bar on the outside that closed each night when she entered and did not open under any circumstances until the next dawn.

A mean, square window gouged from the center of the ceiling was her only means of light. The reach-less window was arrayed with crisscrossing thick steel bars that allowed only a faint hint of luminance, but never sunshine, to fill her cold cell. When the elements roared, Cora made certain Belle suffered from the inclement weather of rain and chill.

Holes stabbed through the middle of the barren stone floor to let rainwater drain; one thing Belle had been grateful the witch overlooked in supplying her prisoner with such a harsh place to rest.

Cora afforded her dutiful slave no spare comforts to her miserable existence nor after living the first week with the cruel witch did Belle expect a farthing of kindness. The Spartan cell was as barren as the day she had been shoved into the prison and the door slammed behind her. There was not even a plank of wood held by rusted chains or a cool stone slab to lay her tired head after each strenuous day or even a heap of straw to drift away upon. Only empty stone floor that sometimes grew moist and clammy when the rains fell was her bed.

Cold fingers of death nightly plied their way upon the slimy walls and assailed the cage with the fists of frost. Chill rose in a faint mist the stone and permeated the cell like an ice chest. The nights were bitter in her prison, but still, at least the cell was hers.

A sigh of gratefulness pattered from her mouth as she forced her stiff limbs to work from their punishment. She clenched her fists as she willed her aching appendages to move. A hiss oozed from her mouth as she stirred.

If nothing else, Cora knew how to punish a body.

Pulling her worn body into an upright position, the ailing beauty forced her back to the slimy, black wall. Still caught in the throes of exhaustion, she leaned her head against the cool wall. For once the cold was a blessing rather than a curse. Her body felt numb from the hard days toil for at least a few more moments before the cell unlocked and she had to get back to work.

Once she started moving a great deal though, the pain would hit her with all the cruelness that embodied the witch Cora.

Though the thought of the up coming pain made her wince, the blue eyed beauty was more focused on the pain that wasn't there. Tremulously she ran the pads of her right fingertips over her left knuckles. The scars and crusted blood that should have been there were all gone. Tenuously she wiggled her digits before her eyes. The pain was not as bad there though they throbbed every so often if she flexed her hand.

Holding her hands to her chest, the beauty inspected her knuckles through the dim light. Her crystal blue eyes roved over the scars that should have been but were bereft upon her skin.

Moments of the night before flashed vividly in her mind. She recalled the purple cloud of smoke that engulfed her bleeding fingers and shot down to the torn flesh on her knees. There had been no cause for such kindness, but he had healed her. Though he said the healing magic was for un-bloody straw, she dared guess that was not the case.

At the thought, the enthralled beauty scolded herself fiercely. Head down, she tried to shake the contemplation from hanging like a rebellious limpet upon the forefront of her mind. What else could his healing motives have been? He was the Dark One, teacher and lover of Cora the cruel. Healing her suited something he needed not because she was in pain.

Tucking the indecisive thought away for later, perhaps when the moon had risen and she was allowed to crawl back into her cell, the beauty rose. Her back slid against the slimy wall as she came to her feet. Warily she found her balance and rocked on her heels.

Pain sang through her back as she stood. Her back felt like a knife had chiseled away pieces of her spine and lodged them everywhere else along the ridge of her back. Repelling a groan of agony, the brown haired beauty limped vapidly to the door.

Oh yes, she knew emphatically with every step, today was going to be bad.

~8~8~

Today was going to be most terrible, the Dark One assured himself sullenly as he produced another strand of gold to the pile amassed at the end of his spinning wheel. Quite a heap had been garnered from the night before and the long morning of turning the wheel. The mountainous pile of riches was nearly to his knee though the string was not enough; never enough. Melancholy stabbed at his heart with every new inch of glittering gold spun from his hoard.

Cora had not been at all pleased he had not come to her bed in the night, the moments for love making far past their prime. As he lay beside her and moved to kiss her lips, she had given him a shoulder all but coated with a carapace of ice and turned her back to him. He had not come all through the night. The last thing he would receive was a kiss, a token of her love.

She denied her affection, so he found himself spinning early in the morning to drown his thoughts. That too would infuriate her, he knew imperatively.

A hint of amusement curved upon his lips at the thought. But she needed to know he did not hang upon every fiber of her sensual, dark being. She needed to know that in-between her creamy thighs was not the only place he could stave off misery threatening to creep over his soul and drag his spirit to nothingness.

"Spinning again, Rumpel?" Cora's sharp tone frilled with fronds of frigid ice as she appeared in her main hall. A cloud of murky obsidian magic billowed about her form like a sable, heavy cloak made of raven feathers she shook from her shoulders.

Over the years Cora had perfected her grand entrances with magic to stun or awe or provoke terror. She always looked graceful when stepping from the roiling mists like some haunting phantom from the grave.

Flicking her naked hand sharply at the hearth fire bounded to life on the conjured wood. Fires fury roared to being at her mental behest. The sudden flare of heat fanned over the Dark One like some elemental message of her displeasure.

Oh she was angry.

"Old habits, Dearie." He trilled in his impish timbre.

A decidedly dark frown came to her lips making her look nearly frumpy. "Old habits indeed." Her lips curled into a bitter sneer. "What sort of man would rather sit at a spinning wheel than come into the arms of the only one who would have him?" She asked in a venomously syrupy tone. Her lips twisted into a cruel demons smile. "Oh wait that's right, you aren't a man."

He deserved that, he knew as she spat the dart. The barb stung his soul and pierced his heart with the all too true testament. Shoulders heaving in a shrug he took the blow without a hint of pain. They both knew what he was, perfectly well. She was just angry he had not bowed to her desire.

Simmering with ire she waited for him to shoot back a stinging lance of his own. When they got into arguments, their passions were too high to die away. He had left her craving in anticipation and he had never delivered. Now, the time had come to make him suffer in anger and pleasure without relief of either.

Words of battle hung on her tongue, waiting for him to make the next move. A thousand parries and insult flashed in dizzying blurs through her mind awaiting her pleasure to be plucked up and tossed, but he remained silent.

He wasn't going to fight; she knew after a few moments. Head turned he kept at his spinning task. He would let her stew in her lustful rage.

Rage gushed through the vile sorceress at the infuriating thought. Her hands curled into twin fists that clutched the sides of her peach hued gown. Malice coiled like a snake over her black heart and filled the husk with bitterest poison.

The thought of him holding back his snapping tongue did not anger her, but the thought of him winning without matching a single a word to her bout drove her mad. Blood boiled in an inferno in her veins stealing away any calm into viperous vapors.

Angry, she cursed his name under her breath and slid into her chair just as Belle entered with breakfast.

Pinpointing a new target for her anger, the witch focused on the beauty. Her cat-like eyes trailed the girl with branding disdain. A snarl skewed her crimson mouth as she glared at the helpless woman. "There you are slave. Taking your time this morning?"

"I'll go faster mistress." Belle replied diplomatically with a bob of the head. Forcing not a hint of pain on her features she sped up thought her muscles screamed. She was actually early since the pain let her sleep so little, but she dared not correct Cora.

Her mistress looked to be in a riotous temper, something she wished no one, no matter how brave to be about.

Placing the tray littered with good on the table, she doled out ceramic bowls of honey and porridge tremulously.

Swiftly, Cora's mind altered to the new target for her malice. The witch smiled menacingly at the beauty. Her eyes followed the girls every movement like a stalking cat. If she couldn't lay wound to Rumpelstiltskin then there was another she could battered and stab with words to score upon the heart.

"Did you sleep well slave?" Cora inquired in mock sweetness of some tender noble. She tented her fingers under her chin sagaciously.

"Yes mistress." Belle replied humbly as she poured out tea in the usual set. She knew better than to answer otherwise.

The witch canted her head slightly to the right, feigning interest. "And how I are you feeling?"

Belle paused, giving the treacherous question due thought. Her eyes fell humbly to the steaming bowls filled with cream colored breakfast. When the avaricious Cora asked that there was no telling what the correct answer was.

Swallowing her fear she continued pouring the tea. "Well enough mistress." She answered cautiously, praying her answer was correct.

"Oh? Well then I suppose you could do the tower stairs today then?" The sorceress taunted cruelly. A smile weaseled upon her pale face as she took her bowl and placed her elbows upon the table. Vapidly swirling a silver spoon into the mixture she kept her eyes upon the beauty.

Blood drained from Belle's cheeks at the thought. Though the dungeon stairs were terrible, but the tower stars were worse. Blocky and hewn from stone from the faraway mountains the tower stairs were rarely used even in the time of the king that lived in the castle before her.

Footsteps had not smoothed any portion of the stone down. One could get bloody feet from walking them barefoot. In her condition she didn't think she could get a quarter of them done.

Head down piously, the beauty tossed her dark amber mane. "No mistress I could not do the tower stairs."

"And why not?" The cruel witch placed a hand on her chest and feigned shock.

Anger and sadness boiled in rapid tumult in Belle's heart. She knew what despaired words her slaver wished to hear. Biting back her pride she sighed in dire resignation. "Because I am weak mistress."

"That's right." Cora chuckled darkly and took a bite out of the fresh bread laying on a platter before her hungry captive. "You are weak. You come from a realm of weaklings. Your people couldn't stop the rampaging ogres; your foolish father couldn't govern his people whilst a war raged over their heads. You had to summon me because you are weak."

Belle clutched the silver tray with all her might as Cora assaulted her and her people. How dare she say those things about her papa? King Maurice, portly and jolly, was no war miser. He loved peace and made his kingdom prosper from trade. He never wished what happened to occur to his kin and kind. In the throes of war, he did what he thought best. The ogres were bloodthirsty barbarians who reveled in war. Hardly any kingdom came out of a conquering when they needed more slaves and treasures!

Her diligent fingers seemed to nearly break through the gilded silver tray's curled artwork as she held back her own fury. Her tongue bristled with words to shoot upon the cruel sorceress but she held them at bay behind her clenched teeth. She dared not snap back, not if she wished to keep her tongue in her mouth.

Mildly assuaged, the witch flourished a hand in the beauty's direction. "But the tower stairs are fair enough for now. You can start off by dusting this room. Then there is a mountain of laundry you can tend too."

"Right away mistress." Belle breathed a sigh of vast relief past her rage. At least there were no more foreseeable stairs in her future.

Too Cora's surprise the beauty picked up the filled chipped cup that the Dark One used. Her eyes, riveted to the pretty slave girl, followed the beauty as she carefully strode in small, tenuous steps over to the master magician.

"Master?" The word came out tremulously in a question.

The wheel paused as he looked up to her, the witch witnessed from her high backed seat. His black orbs, filled with surprise, fell directly to the cup in her grip, a grip, Cora noticed, was free of wounds. A look of intrigue crossed his face as he took the cup from her grip. Going the extra mile wasn't exactly what slaves were known for.

Silently taking the cup, he watched her as she moved gracefully over to a nondescript, wooden box with a brass knob. Shear and dusters and other tools for cleaning sat in the box.

Taking out a black and white duster she began to clean the odd trinkets Cora had collected over the years. There were dull little treasures and bibelots; vases and sparkling gems of rarest quality unearthed from the veins of their lands, little more than ornaments to decorate the forlorn castle at Cora's whim.

Her body still hurt abominably, but dusting wasn't that strenuous a chore. She was grateful her mistress did not lash another cruel task upon her.

Dusting off a vase near a thickly draped window the beauty carefully made certain every spec of dust was off. If Cora spotted one hint of grime she would make her start over or perhaps worse.

A twitch of pain struck just as she moved on to the next pillar. In that instants disaster struck. Focused on her hurt, her right foot tripped upon the gold tasseled fringes of the trailing drape from a large window behind her. The cords wrapped like vines about her ankle in a loose grip when she took a step making her careen forward.

Desperate not to break one of Cora's treasured things but to stay her fall she veered away from the pedestal. Instinctively, her arms grasp for anything to settle her fall. Her fingers curled over the drape, taking them down as she fell.

The sharp sound of ripping and tearing cloth blared dreadfully through her ears. Light, untainted by red cascaded through the window in luminous hue. Slants of sun filled the once dim room with utter radiance. The expensive drape had once been nailed firmly to the stone, now the window was free showing a pane that were not conformed by Cora's dread magic. Happy golden sunlight shot through the dank main hall, filling the place with cheer long since not seen.

The drape was shorn from top to bottom with a massive tear. Tatters of ancient fabric hung about the wound and fluttered in the cold draft like some fallen banner of a vanquished army.

In an instant Cora was on her feet. Her once mildly soothed rage boiled to overflowing in her heart, sweeping everything else aside.

Fury swirled in a gale upon her visage. Her almond eyes glinted murder of the cruelest sort for her slave. Standing above the beauty like some towering colossus of destruction she stared down wrathfully at her wearied slave. "You stupid, clumsy, useless little chit! You've ruined a two thousand year old drape!"

Head bowed the beauty dared not explain her blunder. She was still weak from the day before, but never would Cora take such an excuse even if she did allow for excuses. "I'm sorry." The strangled words fell in a frightful plea for clemency.

Sorry, she was sorry! This wisp of a girl dared to even speak in the face of her mistress?

"You aren't sorry yet." The witch hissed fiercely, her mouth a ruby line against her pallid face.

Magic roiled like thick puddle of boiling sludge through her veins bursting with sinister intent. Blackness hinted her delicate fingertips like splotches of her dark heart. The crackling of power hummed and snapped visually through the air telling the tale of vast unpleasantness to assail the hapless slave.

"Cora I could show you how to make that sleeping poison today." Rumpelstiltskin's voice broke through the storm of magic like a fragrant breeze whisking the storm clouds away from shore.

The creaking of the wheel paused the ancient cycle even as the words left his lips. "I located the last ingredient yesterday." He finished carelessly, his marble eyes still pinioned upon the wooden spokes as though they held the secrets of life themselves.

Instantly the magic died to a faint hum rather than a roaring gale. Sharps sparks of ebony power crackled against Cora's skin, but none of her magic was directed to anything.

Incredulity marbled her pallid face in haughty insult. "You did not tell me this earlier."

"I wanted to spin." He replied easily, his words taking no care to her ire. "I like peace and quiet when I'm at the wheel and since that seemed not to be happening, I suppose showing you how to formulate the potion is due."

Suspicious fell heavily about the cruel witch like a mantle upon her slender shoulders. Her eyes narrowed caustically upon him though he looked not to care at all if she thought his interruption dubious or not. Certainly he could have waited until she was done beating the girl.

She could tell him to wait, but she knew from first hand experience keeping the Dark One waiting was never a wise venture.

Turning face back to the beauty, a sinister smile traced her mouth. "It's your lucky day slave." She let her hands fall delicately before her. The magic faded from her grip, leaving her spell worn fingers all that remained. There would be other times to punish the girl, she wasn't going anywhere.

Paying no more heed to the girl as though she were a worm writhing on the sun kissed flagstone, she gracefully stepped away. "I'll prepare things in the apothecary, Rumpel. Please don't tarry."

Flashing her delicate hand, she dispersed into a cloud of onyx. The scent of pungent ammonia, the stench of Cora's toxic, hateful magic wafted noxiously through the air in vile fumes.

Astounded, not daring to believe her good fortune, the beauty sat prone upon the floor where she had tripped and ripped the drape all the way up to the top. Her body shook as though she were naked in a snowstorm. Blood pounded through her early in wild galloping. She had been only inches from the worst pain she knew. Was the moment really over? Had she come out with nary a scratch?

Daring to look up she saw no mistress looming like the specter of impending death in flesh, only the Dark One. His skin was a curious tint in the fresh light untainted by red or shadows cape. In the dimness his skin seemed a reptilian's green-gray hue, but in the light he took on the color of glinting gold.

The fiend stood by his ancient wheel, his cunning features warped in intrinsic thought and confusion. His eyes blinked up at the sun shining through the glass then back at the beauty. He seemed even more surprised than she that she knelt there with no injury than she did.

He had saved her from horrendous pain, and both knew that. The only question was why. There was no cause for him to interfere but he had all the same.

"Thank you." Belle breathed out tremulously in a shaken whisper, her words quaking from her tight throat.

Utter gratefulness glowed upon her ivory features, glinting in the shower of untainted light. She knew he had done, and nothing she could say would let him know how thankful she was.

Looking at her, something stirred inside the fiend's oily black heart. The feeling was as a splinter stabbed into the soul, but there nonetheless. His tongue, so glib and clever, felt dry and swollen in his frightfully narrow mouth. Itchiness raked his palms in a blazing sensation that nearly burned. He felt ill kept in his slender gray-gold body.

She was gorgeous in the light. Her chestnut man danced a copper hue in the sun. Her skin was creamy and pale and soft and the contours of her body made his heart leap. Their was something genuine about her, not mutated by magic. Pure beauty.

Her eyes branded against his skin like burning sapphire pressed to his flesh, making him feel every inch of his gray-gold flesh under her lovely scrutiny. For the first time, he realized, she was looking at him eye to eye without dropping her head after a heartbeat of contact.

This was not the humble slave, this was some one else entirely.

Breaking the hypnotic tether of her eyes and his, the monster looked away. "No matter." The words did not come out a high pitched and impish as usual. No, they sounded more human than he remembered his voice ever sounding in centuries.

Rising to her feet, the beauty jerked a thumb to the mountain of tattered drape heaped below the shining panes. "I'll just find a way to mend these." She swallowed tremulously.

"See that you do slave." He remarked, his voice soft as he shook her enchantment off. What was he thinking acting so about her? She was a slave. Showing her favor would not do.

Stalking away thoughtfully, the fiend tried focusing on the potion and head and not on the girl he had saved a hefty punishment, but could not tear her away.

Behind him, her mind in a pulsing whirl, the beauty stared at the Dark One. And for the first time in many years, a faint smile twitched upon her lips.


	6. Secrects and Plots

As the days vapidly crawled inch by inch upon the peace filled world, so to did life in the accursed castle. In the sunlit hours amongst the dank belly of the foul keep, Cora and the Dark One schemed, sharpened their wit to fine, murderous points, and plied their hands to mischief and malice in their bleak tower and in the night they burned through their anger by fiery passion that coiled darkly about their lonely souls and bound them tightly as one sordid entity.

The peril of the cunning witch's dreaded words from their first meeting in Dead Man's forest wriggled into the fiend's morbidly sly heart with every illustrious sunrise. Rarely deals found their way to their ears or desperate wanting of princes and warlords and noble folk. Deals were getting scarcer and scarcer. The people of the realms were content with their leaders and their lives. War did not strew the land and monsters that did lurk in the caverns and caves kept once more to themselves in the face of the peaceful days.

Happiness was blossoming throughout the realms in a spring of utter jubilation and desperation waned into a shadow of utopia.

There had to be something done about such facts, they both knew seriously. Some tragedy or error was needed big enough to plunge there world back into tumult. Greedy rulers once more needed to ascend thrones and desperate souls need to wring their hands and plead for help. Both of course carried different reasons why they wanted deals once more, but as long as they did not prove blockades in one another's path they were staunch allies in the plot to secure their lucrative deal makings once more.

"You plan a curse?" The Dark One questioned though the words came out more like a remark. Black nailed index fingers under his scaled chin, he leaned back in the seat next to Cora's stone work table. Ankles crossed he rested his calf high black leather boots up on the stone face. His sable eyes looked over the tips of his silver buckled boots to the sorceress he bedded.

A vile little laugh echoed almost melodically sinister from her crimson lips. Her eyes pinioned upon him as though he were some simpleton that amused her from some jape. "Just a curse, Rumpel? You know me better than that. This will not just be any curse. This will be no mere sleeping potion or a transformation hex! Such a curse as I intend will be talked about for ages. The curse to end all curses."

"And how do you managed to create such a grandly sinister feat?" He flourished his talons lazily through the air. Such magic as she talked about was hard to come by. For a powerful curse she intended all the dark magic in the realms would not suffice.

"Magic of course." Her eyes glimmered with devilish exuberance. "So much magic the power can barely be contained. So much magic put together the power will implode upon itself, bursting like a plump slug between our fingertips."

She would call for such vast amounts of magic, the power would be uncontrollable, errant and wild. And when magic was loose….

Intrigue slashed across his gray-gold scales with a coal of burning interest. A cunning smirk forged upon his gray lips, his midnight eyes gleaming. Her words, as with many things about Cora interested him to no small degree. "Go on Dearie; how do you expect to finish this illustrious quest?"

"One piece of magic at a time." She hissed exuberantly, her eyes glowing with a blazing madness. Placing the palms of her hand on the table, she leaned over like some menacing gargoyle upon a buttress perch. "With our magic together we can easily concentrate darkness, but for other magic's, good magic and wild magic, we need to set gathering those."

The fiend nodded sagaciously, his eyes flashing with knowing. So that was how she meant to enact such a curse as was never seen before. "That's why you want my help. That's why you so allured me in the forest, all for to aid plucking up tendrils of magic."

"I can't collect all this mystic essence alone." She proffered her hand to the large vermilion tinted glass in the windows. "There is so much power out there, I would be foolish to try and bend such puissance to my will." And above anything, Cora was no fool.

"How much have you collected so far?" He drawled lowly, feigning only mild interest once more in her dastardly plots.

Her delicate shoulders, bedecked with a blue gown, heaved in a shrug. Turning her face from him her eyes strafed to a chest laying upon a wide stone table covered with shadow in the back of the room. Dark. sleek wood, of some ancient tree long lost to man, composed the large chest. Black iron bands forged of magic strapped across the chest and dusty gold filigree embroidered the edges. Runes of swirling crimson engraved the chest's heavy sides and lid as though they were branded upon the vessel.

"I've mostly collected wild magic so far." She admitted serenely. Always graceful, the witch all but floated upon the draft to the chest. Her small hands caressed the magical vessel almost like her pet ravens oily wings. "Wild magic is so much easier to take. Ancient, long bearded druids and rocks don't put up much of a fight."

Pulling his leather clad legs down to the floor, the Dark One lifted a singular claw as though she were forgetting something rather important. "If you've forgotten, good magic won't be so trivial to take, Dearie. The fairies guard such power with their very irksome tiny lives."

Cora turned her head back to him, her cherry lips pursed haughtily and almond eyes cool. His impish delight could be rather annoying at times. "I know this, Rumpel." She wrapped her dark lacey mantle about her shoulders. Her slender fingers, like raven talons, smoothed at the dark fibers. "That's why I need you. Together we will locate where their deposits of good magic are kept. When everything is near completion we shall assault them in a surprise attack and steal their magic. Whilst they are still reeling we engage the plan."

"My my Dearie you certainly have thought about this quite long." The Dark One commented in a tittering chuckle. Rising from his chair he slowly prowled near the woman.

The shadows enraptures him, dimming the light of his scaled skin in the banked flames of the hearth. His eyes, even darker the cruel shadows cloaked about them glowed with their pitiless sable.

Her cunning was unmatched save to his own wit, her cruelty surpassing even his. She was dark, deliciously dark, glorious vile and evil. She fit him so perfectly two black souls meshing into one mass-less orb of tainted malice and hate. The thought was almost too much to bear.

Placing a delicate hand upon his gray-gold cheek, a small grin ghosted about the very edges of her lips. "I've thought about this for a very long time, Rumpel. You should know I don't run into anything blindly." Her head canted slightly to the right, a plucked brow perched. "So are you in?"

"Indeed I am." He grabbed her fierily by the hips, closing the distance betwixt her to him. His lips barely pried apart formed every word carefully in a lust filled hiss. "When do we begin?"

Oh she had been waiting for this moment, the moment to claim her revenge. Coyly she placed a hand on his linen jerkin and pushed him away, her body suddenly cold, leaving him bereft of her touch. A vengeful grin weaseled against her pale visage in cruel delight. She hadn't forgotten about his spurned passion, not even in her desire to see the word become undone.

An evil smile widened upon her ruby lips. "I've already stared Rumpel." She replied, enjoying the frustration upon his ugly face. "My journey to continue harvesting wild magic will continue. I will do so alone. If both of us started lurking about the druidic haunts the fairies would grow more than a little suspicious. You will wait until the last of that magic is gathered then we shall get underway. At the last the fairies will be attacked and the plot at its zenith."

"I've never been good at waiting." Replied the fiend menacingly, his eyes ablaze with wanton want. He knew he had fallen for a trap the moment she smiled her triumphant smirk, but that did nothing to quell the galloping lust in his blood.

Anger and hate and lust flared betwixt them like lightening crackling against their bodies. His eyes gouged into her, as she stood coolly aloof, unwilling to take him in her arms. No, he would not be receiving an inkling of her charms just yet.

Dancing away, the witch grinned victoriously. A vile laugh spewed from her throat in cruel melody that stung his husk of a heart. "Patience Rumpel it will be worth the effort in the end. Besides, me gathering magic does not imply that you will have nothing to do. You'll still have me for s long as the reaping takes."

A half smile carved his face at her sensual tone. Taking a step forward he held his arms out but she lifted a hand.

Dare he think her vengeance was complete? "Not now Rumpel dear." She cooed tauntingly. "There is a ritual I simply must get too. An arch druid in a sacred grove performing an ancient rite of powerful magic. You do understand don't you?" Her bottom lip pouted out mockingly.

"You tease me Cora." He snarled but made no move to sweep her up. His body hummed for her, but he would not touch a woman if she did not wish to be touched. "Not a very wise thing to do to a monster."

Another laugh, far harsher, barked from her lips. "Teasing is beneath me Rumpel. I punish." At that she waved a hand carelessly about her. Black mist trailed up in snaking tendril of onyx from her feet slowly shadowing her in magic. The fog engulfed her bit by bit transforming her body into vaporous, vile fumes like dark swamp mist. "You have full reign of the keep while I'm away." She informed as the smoke began to disintegrate her body and take her away at her behest.

Very soon her sinuous figure was nothing more than wispy clouds of dark power. Energy crackled from the ominous fog that danced upon the castles frigid draft.

"Don't be long." His words came out hungrily for her. Perhaps when she was back she would think to bed him again would be due, now that she finally had him bothered and wanting more than ever.

Her lips curled into a deliciously cunning smirk as the smoke banished her away to where she chose. Laughter, cruel and cold drifted hauntingly about the rafters. She always had the last laugh and the sweetest revenge.

Feral anger rose in the beast at such a cocky grin, but there was nothing he could do now. She had waited long for his lust to spring so hotly and now she was gone.

Leaning against the cold stone wall, the Dark One crossed his arm. Stoically forcing his rampaging blood to cool, he intrinsically measured Cora's words. Her plan was a good one, he admitted inwardly. There were flaws like in any plan, but solid nonetheless. So long as the fairies did not suspect their attack they could leave the do-gooders reeling like gnats swatted by a hand and enact their curse before they could gather.

Though the plan was good, the waiting was a definite drawback. Wild magic was not as difficult to gather but so little was enacted unlike good or bad magic. Wild magic would take a while to collect, and Cora was right to say they should refrain from both trying to greedily grab as much as they possibly could. Even the fairies who did not dabble in that sort of magic, nor had any connection to the druids at all could miss that.

Between the now rare deals, potions, and dallying with Cora there wouldn't be much for him to do until that time.

Sighing and resigning his fate of waiting, the sly Dark One lurched from his shadowy perch and slowly made his way to the thick door of Cora's tower. His boot steps thudded ominously about the tower like the measured strides of a lurking beast of fable. In the meantime to forge the base of the plan there would be a lot of spinning to do….

The main hall was dark as the fiend appeared in the large common area. An off-kiltering oddness clung to the drafty air like a strange smell, turning the Dark One's attentions away from his ancient wheel.

Standing prone like the naked marble statues in the dark corners the fiend tried to stitch together what curiosity befell the cold castle. Slowly his ebony eyes strafed across the main room. A fire usually guttered somberly in the large hearth casting light in the cavernous shadows. Smells from the kitchen at this hour normally filled the main hall with fragrances of meat and exotic spices and steeped tea, but there was not a scent upon the drafty wind.

Neither was their any hint of the slave girl, Belle. Normally she was finishing last minute chores and putting out a spread for he and Cora then serve them at their leisure. Yes, that was the matter, he concluded, the slave girl was not about.

Mind completely severed from thoughts of his wheel, the magical fiend ventured into the rarely tread halls of the servants. Dusty, gray cobwebs from years of inattention garlanded the walls and dirt and leavings of mice littered the floor. Darkness thick and clinging swathed the smooth, narrow aperture made only for the servants to get around unseen.

Bereft of a single torch the fiend easily made his way through the listless dark. She had to be somewhere in the castle. Cora had not dismissed her from last he knew. He considered calling her to the main hall but what would he ask. He wasn't hungry and his store of straw was fresh.

Trailing thought the halls the fiend came to the kitchens. The kitchens were not so far away from the main hall, but one could easily get lost maneuvering through the labyrinth that was Cora's castle. He hadn't exactly meant to find his way to the kitchen, but now that he was there, to check made sense.

Hums softly resonated pleasantly from the large kitchens as he crept near the gaping, unbarred maw leading down to the stone larder. A few wooden bowls clattered hollowly from the large kitchen and echoed down the hall, but that was the end of the noise. Heat pulsed from the stone maw of the larder filling the little hall with warm.

Peeking his straggly haired head inside his eyes caught a beautiful shadow dancing upon the wall. The figure looked like an angels shade taken and paintied against the coarse gray stone. When seeing the shadow to not see the person seemed anathema.

Clinging close to the warm stone he slid his body along the wall and crept into the kitchen. Silent as a shadow, he saw the girl, for the first time in a state of near ease from her busy servitude.

Elbows on the large stone table the beauty leaned over a red bound book. A plate of morning's bread and a wedge of cheese sat on a wooden plate before her. Tendrils of her honey amber hair slipped from a frayed cord of leather tied about her silky mane. Her feet kicked vapidly from her perch on a wooden stool.

Hunched over, she sat engrossed in the tome upon the stone table. Her cerulean eyes darted from word to word drinking in the fantastic tale that lay before her. So encompassed in the be spelling tale she did not even notice his presence lingering about the larder. Stretching a hand out before her she only diverted a scant amount of her attention to paw for another chuck of bread as she read.

A smile involuntarily crossed the Dark One's mouth to view her in such an ensorcelled prison for once of her own making. Seeing her there, book in hand, mind off on some grand adventure outside of her slavery seemed perfectly natural.

Nimbly taking a few steps forward on cat's paws the fiend leaned over her shoulder just slightly. "Good book?"

Shocked by the voice, the beauty stared from her perch. The stool keened over to the right and clattered to the floor at her sudden movement. Surprise mingled with fear glazed her lovely face as she stumbled up and turned about. Dread and terror as one danced in her cobalt eyes as she saw the Dark One before her.

Why was he there?

"Master…." The word stammered nervously past her lips. Her assiduous fingers fumbled and grasped for the scarlet leather skin of the book as she tried to look anywhere but at him. If guilt had a face the look would have been hers. "I thought you had left with Mistress Cora. She said you'd both be gone."

He arched a brow. "Is that so?"

Nodding anxiously she palmed the small book like some sort of contraband she'd stolen from a scared shrine. "If I had known you were still here I would have prepared you supper."

"And not picked up a book from the library." He nudged his head faintly to the red tome, his eyes upon her and the book.

The beauty flinched though his words were gently accusing and not barking with imperious offence. Red stained her creamy cheeks but she could not deny his words in the slightest. Cora would kill her if she knew. "It's only when she's away and never until after my chores are done."

She would not be a fool and try to tell a lie. There was no way to cajole her way out of what he saw right there. She was caught red handed with no way of escape. The only way to buffer the fact was too tell him true things.

Even with her secret love for reading she would be a fool to not do her chores first. She knew the temptation of prying open a tome and how she became enveloped. The fact that she had not even heard him come in nor seen his shadow dark over her proved that!

Amused, the fiend waggled a scolding finger in her face. "Ah so a bit of rebellion we have here. Right under Cora's nose no less."

In his dark heart he knew she couldn't be all the cowed slave she was to Cora's face. Though she never displayed the freedom in her heart, he knew there lurked a part of her beneath the skin. There seemed something bright and free behind her brightly intelligent eyes when she looked up at him. She was a slave but certainly did the very least to appear such when Cora was not skulking about.

Her fingers trembled upon the spine of the book but she did not reply. Head bowed she looked at the floor as though drawing strength for some punishment to come.

Pity welled in the Dark One though he could not say why. There seemed no reason to make her so miserable but she was, and as such was reduced to daring punishment simply for an inkling of pleasure.

"I didn't come here to catch you reading." He remarked to break the sorrowful silence. "I don't care if you read. I came to eat."

Belle nodded dutifully. "I'll bring tea and supper to the main hall."

"No." He tossed his head. Slipping into a stool oppose of her fallen seat he motioned to the loaf and the cheese setting out. "I'll just have what you're having, right here. After all…." He winked and trilled insanely. "Cora isn't here. And since your doing a grand job of it, time to break the rules myself."

A small chuckle escaped her lips towards his witty quip. For a brief moment a smile alit her face like a ray of light before falling again to dudgeon. She was still in a perilous place and knew her hazard for being caught.

Helping himself to the plenty of the table, Belle righted her stool and slid down into her own seat numbly. Helplessness and terror and confusion replaced the surprise upon her lovely features. What was he doing? Was he taunting her, trying to find a way to cause her nightmares?

Breaking off chunks of bread and cheese he ate voraciously. His sable eyes remained pinioned upon her never diverting even as he chewed. He leaned upon the table, his pointed black nails rapping against the coarse stone table top in a rhythmic tattoo.

Though her head was bowed she could feel the heat of his gaze burning into her brain. The press of his eyes branded against her skin. What she would have paid for the chance to wriggle away.

His lips formed into a wide Cheshire grin as he chewed a crust of warm bread. "Now tell me, why I should not inform your mistress about this little incident?"

Perhaps she was willing to make a deal, he supposed eagerly. The last bargain he'd made had been months ago and he was itching to hammer out an agreement once more. At the thought, the darkness in him swirled approvingly. He did so love having blackmail in the annals of his mind, ready to be plucked up for some later purpose.

"Please don't tell the mistress." She blurted desperately. Hot tears welled in her sky blue eyes as she clutched the book near to her banging heart. "I know I shouldn't but…." She paused uncertainly, her words dry on her heavy tongue.

Did she dare tell him of the last thing that made her life not so miserable in the castle? He was the Dark One; would he use her only secret comfort to cause her pain? But no, anyone who would interfere through Cora's anger to save a slave wouldn't… she hoped.

Sighing softly she plunged into the unknown. "This is the last thing I cherish." The beauty revealed quietly. "Cora allots me nothing of good in this slavery. This is a risk I take for an inkling of happiness from time to time. It's not much, but books are all I have. Please don't tell her."

Despite his desire for a deal, the Dark One's heart lurched. Her words, so fragile from such a strong soul drowned his desire for a bargain and snuffed out the thought of blackmail in a gale wind. Darkness reared to squelch the thought but memorize of his past life re-surged full force to battle with his cold emotions.

He had once done something ignoble for someone he cherished. He had once broken rules and risked cowardice for his boy.

"Can't say I will." He munched thoughtfully on a mouthful of bread. "But I can't say I won't either. Don't think because of one time I'm of the disputation to dole out favors to slaves."

The curtains. Rumpelstiltskin could have cursed himself even as the words left his mouth. Why did he have to bring _that _up!

Perching her head up for just a moment, even in the throes of fear, the beauty allowed a smile to tilt her pink lips. Her cobalt eyes glimmered in the banked hearth light for a mere moment before she declined her head, once more the dutiful, cowed slave. "Thank you again for that." She dared not pin point exactly what he did, but they both knew what she spoke of.

Inwardly they both knew the subject too tender to broach by name. Perhaps only merely alluding to the instance was a puerile thing, but neither could summon enough courage to say so aloud.

"Nothing to thank." He swallowed a boulder of half chewed dry bread. Nerves thrilled involuntarily through his wiry body. He did not like the subject of the curtains, they made him feel strange.

"But-" She began.

He raised a gray-gold talon to stop her. Standing sharply, he frowned darkly. "No. Thank me all you want but I didn't do it for you. I wanted to spin and your shrieks of agony would have distracted me. I could care less if Cora beats you or not. What your mistress said that day was true; you were just lucky." Wrapping darkness about him like some protective cloak, he stared down at her icily to deny the falseness he felt in his heart. "Is that clear slave?"

She made not a sound. Just like with Cora and misery she would not reply. She would not give up what she felt in her heart.

"Very well, have your foolish thoughts." He snarled between thin gray lips. "After supper you are dismissed to your quarters. I would suggest that you go there post haste lest Cora decides to come home early. You wouldn't want to be up when I tell her about the book."

Horror stirred in Belle's heart but still she remained silent. Would he all because she chose to believe his actions kindness? Was he so against being thought well of?

Satisfied he had made his point of stopping Cora from being her not being for her, the Dark One allowed the carapace of impenetrable darkness to fall away. An insipid smile curled his lips. Somehow instilling terror in her did not have the same feeling he expected.

Disappointed and curious the fiend straightened the wrinkles in his clothes. "If that's all I'll be at the wheel."

Before she could say another word he disappeared in a blaze of purple fumes. His mind reeled as he tried to figure out why he found no pleasure in frightening her nor anger that she refused to reply.

~8~8~

The sun was just rising along the gauzy eastern horizon as Cora reentered her dreaded citadel. The sky was an ashen gray and smeared with milky pink foretelling rain in the late summer.

A smile crossed the witch lips as she vapidly strode up the stairs to her quarters. Satisfaction gleamed in her eyes like expensive dark pearls set in the hallows of her pale visage.

Taking her time, she juggled a hefty brown pouch between her hands. The leather purse was a hastily stitched bag made of unicorn hide. Magic could be bound only in contents made of other magical items.

The night had been a glorious success, Cora keened and fondled the bulging purse. The druids in their secret grove never suspected one of their cloaked ranks was she. At the very apex of their rituals there had been a blood bath from her accursed magic and now she held all their magic's in her grip like some hungry pick pocket.

Slipping into her room, a menacing shadow in the banked embers, the witch placed the sack of magical density on the night stand. Too tired to undress by hand, the witch promoted a magical mental command to shed her clothing. The darkness hid her sensual figure as she slipped under the feather, silken blankets.

"Have fun?" The Dark One's sleepy voice inquired from the other side of the bed.

Another smile illumed her face as she slipped beneath the frost hued covers. Now that he had been properly allowed to stew in his want she felt compelled to be in his arms again. "Not bad." She slipped into his hold.

"I can tell." He hummed pleasantly and curled an arm over her shoulder. "You reek of earth and fire."

She laughed vilely, her eyes twinkling in the dimness. "They never saw me coming. I managed to get a fair bit but we still have a ways to go." Relaxing she took their minds off her recent conquest of magic. Now there were different matters to approach. "Tell me." Cora yawned sleepily as she snuggled beside him. "Did you catch my slave girl up to anything tonight?"

So that was it, the fiend surmised instantly. That was why she had told Belle they'd both be gone. She wanted her to be caught in some trap.

He sniffled softly feigning fatigue. "Like what?"

"Something she shouldn't be." The witch laid her head on his bare chest. Her hands laid flat over his heart. "I have a feeling she does something when I'm away. Something she knows I would not approve of. In fact I'm certain she is." For years she had been trying to discover if the girl was doing anything whilst she was away. Any rebellion or freedom would not be tolerated. But the girl was a born free spirit and besides that a clever chit.

Like reading, Rumpel noted to himself inwardly. Oh yes she did something surely Cora wouldn't appreciate, especially cracking open a tome that brought her endless amounts of happiness. She would be livid if she knew, but then again he had no tie to this slave girl. If she defied her mistress Cora deserved to know. Besides she still thought him saving her from the curtains had been a kindness. With this he could deny her claim and prove he showed no favor to some one who bartered away their freedom.

A brief tinge of guilt assailed his black heart in a driving spear at the thought of relaying the slight rebellion to his evil lover. Cora was crueler than most and the girl wasn't doing any harm. Like anyone, all she wished was for a brief respite from her lot. An inkling of happiness was all she desired, something so trivial Cora could do more harm in a single order than the girl reading one precious book in the brief breath of spare time when Cora was away.

Settling the inward debate quickly the fiend vapidly tossed his head, his features hiding the truth in his heart. "Not that I could ascertain." He lied smoothly. "She fears you well enough Cora. She knows what would happen."

Satisfied and exhausted from her nights bloody workings, the witch closed her almond eyes contentedly. A sigh breathed lightly from her crescent lips as she let herself drift off in the throes of slumber. "Good." She replied, none the wiser what truth lay upon her lovers cold heart.

Laying there beside her in the blackness, the Dark One let the mask fall away from his features. Looking up to the ceiling, he watched the bickering shadows lurk upon the gilded images neatly painted above. His sable eyes strafed along the stone and paint with a troublesome gaze that spoke of the turmoil within.

Doubts and warnings clanged and crashed about in his head in an array of thoughts he could not discern properly. Why had he done such a merciful thing, why had he saved her again when he should not have the first time?

Head a jumble of contemplation, the fiend clapped his sable eyes shut, and tried to sleep, all the while cursing himself a fool.


	7. Enter the Wild

"Wild magic." Rumpelstiltskin remarked lazily unimpressed as he tenuously held up the brown leather purse Cora had collected the night before. His wiry, black nailed claws tingled with a strange, prickling aura as he held the bag upon the tip of his index finger by the gray hemp draw strings.

Blood and gruesome gore from some surprised druid and his ilk stained the bag in dark crimson splotches upon the hide telling of the silent horror his lover had committed to gain the magic. She had not been merciful in her slaughtering and thieving of the errant power, that was undeniably certain. Knowing Cora she had probably gained much needed enjoyment from tearing out druid hearts and tossing them into their own ceremonial fires and burning their ancient groves to smoldering ash and smoky char.

Leaning his skull against the wickedly carved headboard crafted to look like spiral horns jutting to the rafters, the Dark One stretched out to the power prickling from the unicorn hide. Laying on the messy bed of the dark witch, the fiend inspected the unicorn hide bag filled with pilfered druidic power. Thin silver sheets covered most of his sinewy figure though there was no need for he was fully dressed beneath. Lounging away in sated repose, his obsidian orbs focused entirely on the swirling magic caught by the cunning Cora.

Power radiated in thorny shoots of errant magic against his darker essence like prickly ivy trying to find purchase upon some stone cottage wall. Something in the bag wished to be free and roam, as the name justly proclaimed, wildly.

"Nasty stuff this wild power." He pulled a face of disgust towards the bag.

Wild magic was as the name proclaimed was a magic that was vastly unpredictable by nature. Only the learned, sagely druids, more aged and ancient than even he, knew how to wield the magic with any refined, assured skill and cajole the fierce, untamed power to bend to their will aged will.

Harnessing the volatile magic was not the problem but the magic had an innate will of its own. A little magic for a drought could end up a country swathed in murky marsh if one let the druidic power go awry. Hardly any tried to master the magic and hardly any survived to tell the tales of accidents.

Straightening a green gown broidered with curling scrolls of gold upon her sensuous form, the witch smiled into the glass of the ostentatious vanity before her. The vanity was carved of smooth, dark wood that was nearly as black as stone. Horns carved ingeniously from the foreign timber wound up to the top of the three portion mirror and razor claws curled about molded dark worlds at the feet. The panels that held the trio of panes looked akin to demons leathery wings about to enfold her in a lovers clutch.

Here Cora sat every morning to put upon her face for the world. She kept herself always in a certain fashion, hiding away the scars of ages past and the errors of dark magic upon her pale skin that would never vanish.

"Potent, Rumpel." The cunning witch corrected simply whilst she delicately dabbed a pallid makeup upon her cheeks. Little puffs of white clay rose in the air like errant gusts of fog in the mirror. She seemed akin to some angry dragon billowing a faint line of smoke rather than a seductress putting on her face.

Keeping his eyes on the magically sewn pouch in front of his ebony gaze, the fiend let the unpleasant pulse of power flow through him. The thorns of the magic latched on to his dark power but withered upon touch. Wild magic in particular was no ally of dark either.

Pushing away the barbaric magic he blockaded his power from entangling with the other power grasping fingers. "What form?" He inquired in a thoughtful drawl and swung the sack lightly back and forth like some odd pendulum of fate.

Cora straightened an errant vine of dark hair from her pallid visage in the three way mirror. "Look and see." Her eyes darted to his reflection in the mirror before returning back to her paints and perfumes.

Carefully the Dark One pulled back the draw strings. Tenuously putting a few fingers inside he drew back a host of dark, moist clumps. Small straggly roots of white stuck out in every wayward direction from the black, dirty lumps jumbled together. The rich scent of damp, loamy earth from a nights rain in the forest filled his nostrils.

Fear and raging anger shivered tremulously in his heart with the rich smell. Memories assailed him from all sides from the simple fragrance that uprooted so many suppressed flashes of remembrance. The perfume was to close to that night in the forest when he tried to escape with his son. To close to the earthly scent that filled his lungs when he bent to kiss the knights filthy boots. The earth reminded him of the worm he had once been.

A grimace slashed across his once curious scaled features as he rubbed his dismally talons together. The dirt had a moist, chalky feel. "Earth." He remarked in disgust and let the clumps roll from the pads of his fingers back awkwardly bag into the bag. "Dangerous to combine with the rest." The fiend tugged the sack closed. Wiping his fingers on his brown, silken vest whilst casting away his thoughts he leaned his head back to the dark head board once more enjoying the site of his lover preparing for another day.

"That's why preparing the magic be your job, Rumpel." Cora remarked with mock cheerfulness. A pale smirk as false as her painted face spread across her features from ear to ear.

Surprise burst inside the Dark One in a lance of sudden revelation. His ebony eyes widened in his awe. She meant for him to amalgamate the magic? "Oh ho, and when did we decide this?" He sat upright upon the goose down mattress. The bed rustled and creaked with age as he shot up, his back resting against the headboard instead of only his skull.

The witch flashed him a deviously charming grin. "You are the Dark One." She replied as though the answer was obvious. "You are the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms."

"You forget, Dearie, wild magic cannot be handled alone; not even by me." The fiend growled irksomely at her blatant gall. To suppose that he would willingly take such risk, bowing to her request like a stupid serf was infuriating! Did she know what she was asking? Did she want him to lose a hand to a thorny vine with a mind of to latch upon him or worse?

"This magic is extremely dangerous." The magical monster shot back sourly, his words sullen. Just thinking of conjoining all the magic put him ill at ease. He might have been the Dark One but he was no fool to not know his limitations.

Normally an ancient, withered druid who beckoned such magic had helpers lingering upon their every sagacious word. Devotees who were honored to put their lives in peril or the rare few with the gift always drifted close by ready to aid in any way. Only those who were the highest skilled in the particular art of wild magic or had a death wish preformed such rituals alone.

Scoffing laughter blurted incredulously from her faded pink lips. Her mouth curled into a grin of disdain. "Since when is the Dark One worried about danger?" She queried and perched a plucked brow.

"Since you asked me to combine the earth, flame, wind, and waves of wild magic." He parried tartly. Though he tried to stave of the thought, a part of his heart twisted. Dark claws wrenched mercilessly at his dead husk shredding his soul like old parchment. Did she even care what she implored him to tend to was perilous?

Agitated, a sigh huffed from the witch's frowning lips. Did the fool have to be so difficult? "If you truly do need a helper employ the slave girl then." She added impatiently like a woman trying to appease a whining child.

The fiend shook his head, his straggly dirty brown hair fanning into his features. The thought was beyond ludicrous. Only the learned could hope to aid in such tenuous rituals. "Belle will not know where to begin the rituals. She would get herself killed."

"Belle?" The primping witch echoed the name as though the moniker was a far off memory niggling some remembrance in the back of her skull. She plucked and patted lightly at her locks as her mind tried to connect the name. Belle…. Where had she heard that name before? Belle? Belle?

Almost abruptly the thought came to her. Heaving her shoulders in a faint shrug she attended to another part of her toilet, "Oh yes her name. I'm terribly sorry, but she's the only help you will be getting I'm afraid. With all the magic I've stolen the power is none to happy for me to wield in the current state. That magic clung close to the druids that _ask _of all things to wield such power. Wild magic won't accept the process if I aid in any means. Unless you can convince some wayward druid to help, I'm afraid you're stuck with her. Besides." She added as she vapidly ran her coral lipstick along her plush mouth. "If she is engulfed in flames it will be of no great consequence, and somehow you must get the fifth component of the magic anyway so she cures two problems."

The fiends offered a reconciliatory shrug. Belle was of course merely property, but to have her dissimilated or engulfed by ravenous, errant magic seemed a waste. A dreadful, terrible waste. His black heart clenched at the dour thought, despite himself believing otherwise. No, he would not like at all if the magic claimed her. But what other choice did they have?

Rising stately from her purple padded, golden seat, the witch turned to her lover still perched between the fine silver silk and downy pillows. By their lovemaking when the sun fully rose, she was surprised he wasn't still some boneless mass just trying to breath and recover his strength. "Shall I see you down at breakfast?" She inquired almost regally, her words demure behind a coy smile.

Magic filled the room in a strong breeze of black power even as the words left her mouth. Dark damson clouds veiled the Dark One in a shroud then shredded revealing a finely dressed and ever energetic fiend. A high pitch cackle fell through his smiling lips as he swept the cruel Cora into his strong, wiry arms.

On instinct she fell into him, letting his magic and sinew support her in his clutches that would never drop her. Her eyes found his black orbs, filled with nothing but ardor and anger for her. Such a black, furious almost loathing love they had, but there was no other, and none other she wanted more than he .

"My dear I would follow you anywhere." He lavished hard kisses heatedly against the creamy skin of her neck. His gray-gold skin came back tainted with her powder, but he care not. Though he could care less how she painted herself in the morn, he would much more see her with bruises from her kisses along her pulse point that any makeup spotting her cheeks.

Shivers slithered down Cora's rigid spine with each passionate kiss. Her spell clever hands ran against his shoulders and down the blades to hold him close as her head pulled back giving him leave to plunder her throat. After what they had been through night she could not help but believe him.

~8~8~

Soft bread, eggs, and a few crystallized oranges, Belle listed off the solid, tasty meal in her mind as she set the main hall table in the daily routine. All of Cora's favorites.

The long oaken table was arrayed neatly with everything in the proper place for her master and more importantly her mistress.

Warm blackberry tea steeped in the blue and white ceramic kettle awaiting use just as Cora preferred with her favorite meal. The fragrant, milky gray steam lingered like morning fog on the tree tops about the oaken table as though to wish Belle luck. She'd even taken out the blackberry preserve if Cora desired some.

With the spread served out, all she could hope was to buffer the rage that would come barreling down upon her in furious pain. Perhaps Cora's temper would be disinclined to punish her too harshly with her stomach filled of her favorite meal. Perhaps the food would buy her a few more minutes free of torment.

A worried frown tilted Belle's lips at the vastly unpleasant thought of Cora's fury. Her bored cruelty wasn't so terrible for she would quickly lose interest in the torment she doled out to her helpless servant, but for all of Cora's vast evil, when she was angry her malice was intensified by a thousand. The fires of hell seemed preferable than to her blazing wrath.

Fear curled like a python about Belle's brave heart at the thought and squeezed the courage from her chest. Sharp shards of ice roiled in her belly, inducing pangs of anxiousness that thrilled through her form.

Troubled by the thoughts, the beauty instinctively began to wring her hands to keep them from trembling. She bit her bottom warily, her eyes darting about for lack of anything better to do.

When Cora found out that she had been reading when she was away.…

A violent, frigid shiver trailed Belle's spine as she firmly tossed away the contemplation. The thought barely bore thinking about.

Surely the Dark One had told her cruel mistress what she'd been up to whilst she was ambling about for whatever plot suited her vile needs. Even now she supposed they were both conspiring on what cruel punishment to allot her. Perhaps she would have to muck out the stable around the castles back or perhaps simply beat her as Cora had done on a few occasions.

No thought was pleasant but a little ray of hope still glimmered in the recesses of her flagged, tremulous mind awash with pitch black horror. What if the Dark One had not told her evil mistress? What if he had taken pity to her plight and allowed the perilous secret to stay stashed away in the crevice of her heart?

But no, the beauty scolded herself roundly for the foolish thought of his supposed kindness, he had departed on ill terms with her. She had refused to give up what she believed in her heart, even now, she would not. There had been no pity in his glassy, dark orbs in the night and surely he would not pity her to his lover of whom he found so much in common.

"You've been busy this morning slave." Cora commented carelessly as she and the Dark One entered the main hall in a spurt of black tinged purple fog.

Belle flinched as the words whispered about the main hall. Her heart leapt into into her throat as the blood drained from her face. Turning about in a blur she looked to where the voice hailed in the oily cloud.

The sorcerers magic mingled favorably together whenever they teleported anywhere. Empty black tendrils wrapped about dark purple clouds like fingers clutching at billowing amethyst. The power when meshed almost looked like snakes weaving together in some horrible wyrd of fate.

Tremulous breath caught in Belle's throat at their impromptu entry. Her brave heart paused in a sudden crash of raw terror and disparity forcing her heart to still. Blood froze as brooks stilled by winters ice in her body. The urge to drop to her knees and beg for mercy instilled her soul and shook her knees like rattles, but she would not demean herself such.

If she was to be punished at least she would be in pain with her dignity still intact. Cracked but whole nonetheless.

Swallowing hard, the frightened beauty nodded humbly and cast her eyes down ward to her feet as the pair exited the cloak of power. "Very busy mistress. I made your favorite."

"Trying to buy my favor slave?" The vile sorceress cooed tauntingly as she slipped sensually into her normal seat.

Dutifully Belle fell into attending them. Like all meals she doled out their food, measured their tea into their cups and when finished stood away to the side awaiting if they should need anything. Mostly she refilled their tea whenever they took a sip. Though there was nothing grand about the job, the task was the least arduous of her chores and at least she could listen to their conversations.

Pouring the warm blackberry tea she shook her chestnut mane head softly, every inch the cowed slave. "No mistress."

"Good. Because you'd know I'd never give you an inch." A malicious laugh hummed in a purr from her kiss strewn throat.

Not daring to oppose, the beauty nodded dutifully. The more she let Cora heap spearing insults into her soul and bring down her hope in a vile pit of darkness the greater her chances of less pain later.

Cora, she knew, was akin to a cunning cat toying with an injured mouse. She would always bat at her helpless servant before digging her claws deep and snapping her in two.

From the other end of the table, the fiend stirred in his matching seat. "Slave my tea." He crooked a gray-gold talon to beckon her to his empty chipped cup.

"Right away." She bobbed a penitent head and scurried over. Pouring his tea she dared not look into the dark eyes she knew were intently boring into her. She knew precisely what she would find in his bottomless orbits, only cold duty of one who had to inform his lover of her rebellious servant.

The cruel witch doctored her tea as the girl busied herself setting their plates with slices of sugared oranges and bread. "I have a special task for you slave." She dropped a cube of sugar into the gilt cup and stirred lazily, her eyes never parting from the girl.

"Mistress?" Belle's voice hedged with wariness. This was the end, she knew, it had to be; the cat was finally striking.

Delicately sipping her tea the witch sifted in her seat. "From now on you will make the trek to the tower to deliver our luncheon. We have much work to do in the coming days and I won't waste precious time coming down here, waiting for you to bungle something."

Astounded, Belle nearly dropped the plate of steaming eggs on her feet. Awe warmed her veins, thawing the ice in her blood. That was all? No punishments, no pain, only an extra chore?

Breath rattled in relief from Belles lips. Her entire body shivered, her blood flowing hot in her body once more. Her head bounded with a rush of her ruby essence to her temples. "Yes mistress. Of course mistress."

Grabbing up the silver gilded tray, the enslaved beauty began to make her way out with the unneeded dishes. Cora seemed none the wiser of the book episode, she relayed in her sharp mind brimming with relief. Perhaps the Dark One did not spill her secret.

"Hold on a moment." Intrigue filled the cruel Cora's voice like a lance aimed at the girls heart.

Fear chilled Belle's veins once more in a flurry of terror she could not halt. Her body braced in a jolt as thought the words were vines curling about her calf's. Her head swirled in a nightmarish whirl she could escape. How could she have been so foolish to think Cora did not know?

He had told her, the fright in her whispered terribly t her stilled heart. He had told Cora of the book and her only secret pleasure to balm her wounds of misery.

Dread clamped keen cutting talons about her heart at the thought and dragged her soul down into the pit of her belly. Cora was ruthless to begin with when she found something to displease her. The cruel witch was terrifying when orders were disobeyed. Below her mended skin Belle had the magical scars to prove all that and more.

Through the night she prayed he hadn't said a word, but why wouldn't he? He owed her nothing. She was a slave, one who rebelled against his lover no less. That was enough ground to divulge her secret there with no regret on his part.

"What is this book doing here?" Cora queried suspiciously as Belle was about to leave with tray in tow. Her scheming eyes strafed over to a red tome sitting on the edge of a polished pedestal.

The ruby covered book lay haphazardly upon a pedestal the beauty had passed by when going to her prison the other night. Belle had been so certain the Dark One meant to relate what he had discovered to her mistress she hadn't even bothered putting the book away so despondent was she.

Struck with terror the beauty lost her breath in her constricted lungs. Her body seemed entrapped in an enchantment but no magic befell her form. How could she have forgotten where she left the book? Had she sold herself out by an error?

"I was reading the book, Cora." Interjected Rumpelstiltskin easily. The lie smoothed in a pleasantly lazy trill past his thin gray lips.

Lazily flourishing her hand, the witch brought the book to her spell worn grasp. Licking a nimble finger, she flipped open the crimson faced tome and languidly skimmed the neatly inscribed pages. Her almond eyes raced over the blots of darkness that lined the yellowed parchment as she leisurely inspected the tome with a causal grace.

As she closed the book, a teasing smile perched upon her mouth. "A quaint little love story. Funny, Rumpel, I never thought you the type to enjoy such amorous tales of princes in disguise and daring sword fights to save the princess."

"I do enjoy my fancies." He tittered and flourished his wiry black nailed talons as though his reading selection was of no consequence. Inwardly his pride flinched from the darts of her words. Why did the girl have to be reading that book? And more importantly why had he covered for her?

Turning to Belle she held the book out temptingly. Her smile of humor at the Dark One's expense slowly transformed into an oozing smirk of taunting to her bowed prisoner. "You would like to read this wouldn't you slave?" She taunted in acidic sweetness.

Shocked, more to her good fortune rather than Cora's asking the beauty nodded dumbly, her mind spinning in a blur on an incredible axis. "Yes mistress."

"Like I said." She waved her hand as though tossing away garbage. The book enveloped into onyx smoke and disappeared form her small clutches. "You will find no favor from me." Rising she smiled at her love. "I'll be in the tower if you need me."

As she departed in a cowl of darkness, the Dark One rose. The high backed chair screeched from such a hurried rising and wobbled nearly toppling over from his sudden rush.

His ebony eyes were as hard as black marble carved into his sockets. A drab grayness of anger tinted his green-gold skin. Fury at himself clawed menacingly at his heart spurring his ferocity into an inferno. He prowled towards the enthralled beauty like some stalking, angry leopard with prey insight.

He knew what was on her mind. Even if he were the stupidest being on earth he could have discerned her thoughts in an instant.

"Don't even think about thanking me. I only save your skin for one purpose." The fiend hissed menacingly, his lips skewed into a feral sneer and eyes gleaming with murder. He had to dissuade her of any notion otherwise. "Your mistress wishes me to do a conjoining of wild magic. I need an assistant. I'd rather have one who is not dead yet."

Her head shot up from her deferent bow. Amazement sparkled in her indigo orbs so blue he lost himself in her gleaming depths. Words of thanks danced eager upon her tongue, but she knew better than to try and thank him. "Wild magic?" She asked instead of proclaiming the gratefulness in her heart.

"Yes." He growled, trying to deny the look in her sapphire eyes. "Nothing more."

Nothing more. He had saved her for no other purpose than his own, he convinced himself sternly.

Walking past her the fiend set his midnight eyes upon his wheel. More than ever did he wish to spin until the wheel was all a brown blur taking his thoughts and milling them to dust swept away by the winds of his dark mind. His fingers itched to feel the golden thread slip through his gray-gold talons and to feel the roughness of the wood across his palms. He needed to forget, he needed to think.

Turning about, Belle looked to him. Her eyes once more glowed a sky blue with the woman he had seen on the floor amidst the sea of ancient curtain. "I owe you my life." She thanked discreetly. There truly was no doubt about that. Cora would have probably turned her into a plump grub and fed her to her raven if she found out about the book.

Perhaps he utterly refused to accept a thank you, but a simple statement of gratefulness he could not deny. He would not, could not, stop her from at least saying that much for his kindness.

Before he could parry her words, the beauty swept away with the gilded tray and a thankful, bursting heart.

Behind her, the Dark One stared at his ancient wheel and pile of straw and spun for his dear, foolish life.

What was happening to him?


	8. Discoveries in Practice

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing, Lovelies!_

**~8~8~**

For the next few days the studious Dark One practiced certain rituals intensely with the captive beauty. At any spare moments he combed over the rare tomes Cora had in her possession, penned by sagely druid. All through the hours he planned for every single disaster that could arise. One did not construct a druidic ritual lightly or as some flippant thing.

Day after day, night after night they preformed mock actions, going through the steps by steps motions of the delicate procedure. Everything had to be just right, from the amounts of regents sprinkled to the flames or tossed with just the right flourish to the inscription to the muttered chanting. If one thing went wrong, or the magic was not at all culled and subdued by their show of deference disaster could strike them both.

Of course, he might be injured in something went wrong, but the girl had no resources to stave off the biting, thorny magic should the power become errant. He could heal himself if a gout of fire erupted from the ritual, yet she would be disintegrated into a pile of oily ash in but a heartbeat. For all the practice, the risk went doubly for her in case some ill sprang forward.

He wasn't going to let that happen, Rumpelstiltskin swore reverently to himself. He would not let her die because of a tenuous ritual gone awry or some misstep that heralded her doom. The darkness whispering like black winds of biting frost in his heart snapped at him for his relentless dedication but he overpowered the ill lurking deplorably in him. Belle was Cora's after all, he told himself to assuage the bitter darkness' disapproval. Far be it from him to owe Cora anything, especially a new slave girl for the one that had been turned to stone by wild magic or much worse.

She had to get everything right. She had to.

"No, no, no." Rumpelstiltskin slammed a tight fist into his free hand as Belle warily placed a bowl to the left of a horde of tall tallow candles.

At his snapping, the beauty snatched the bowl up once more like a child caught doing something wrong. Her hands shook terribly as she jerked the wooden vessel away, close to her chest. Water rippling inside the bowl dashed over the rim and splashed out over her hands. She fought to keep the bowl in her grip but the wooden dish fell to the floor in a clatter of stone and wood.

Water sluiced out in every direction, staining the hem of her dirty golden dress and leaking in a tear through a stone channel gouged in the floor. The bowl wobbled on its side like a broken toy, abandoned by a destructive child.

Ignoring the mess of cold wet, the Dark One pointed a scaled claw to the candles. "Water goes to the right. Always the right. You must keep the liquid separate from fire that goes on the left!"

Belle flinched at his snappish, irate tone, her body shuddering. Azure eyes upon the mess on the floor she could feel the heat of his obsidian eyes boring into her. "I'm sorry." She apologized lowly. Having the Dark One irked at her was not something she wished by any means. So far he had been gruff, but tolerant and even helpful to her enslaved plight. With all her being she did not wish to toss that out simply because he would lose his temper with her ineptitude.

To be certain she was doing her best to learn but the rituals were difficult to pick up at a moments notice. Druids and their novices or followers had years to perform the rituals without fail and she had only a few days.

"You'll be more than sorry if you do the ritual wrong." His dark eyes flashed daggers at her. Why couldn't she understand he was trying to save her.

Her chestnut head perched up to his cool words. Did he think she was not trying her hardest? Blistering anger flashed through her cobalt depths like bits of steel leaping from a blacksmiths forge. "Perhaps you could give me a bit of leeway here. I've only just started." She bit out venting her own frustration, her anger daring to fly in his face.

Surprise sprang to the magical fiends black husk at the outburst of the normally subdued woman. His soul lurched to life with the tremor of anger in her tone. Never, in all his time in Cora's vile estate had he seen the girl parry back to another's ire. She could be stubborn and held to her beliefs with a staunch heart, but he had never witnessed her growl out her own emotions.

The site was intoxicating. A flush of pink swirled in her cheeks and her jaw locked in fury. At another time, before her slavery, he reckoned she was quite a girl with her own opinion and thoughts not stifled by the hand of a cruel mistress she dared not speak back to.

Taken aback by her irked push, the fiend stared deeply into the pools of sapphire engraved upon her lovely features. A scaled brow perched curiously, enraptured by her anger. So she did have something more than an ounce of bravery. She had a little fire behind those pretty cerulean depths.

Belle stared into his smooth sable eyes without a hint of dreaded fear. How could he expect so much! Even Cora….

Cora.

Chill frosted over the heat of Belle's staunch heart at the thought of the cruel witch to whom she was forever enslaved. The high conflagration of her rage simmered to a hidden ember in the crags of her daring heart once more with the inward mention of the cruel shrew. If Cora knew she had dared let her anger hiss past her lips….

Ducking her head piously the girl flinched from his gaze. One displeased word to Cora and she would be regretting letting her ire free from the holds of her strong heart for weeks on end. "Forgive me speaking so, but I'm just frustrated." She smoothed to make amends, the burning wick in her heart extinguished once more to the cowed, obedient slave girl that hid the true woman beneath.

A half amused huff snorted from his thin gray lips as he watched the insipid words cross her lips. She meant not a word of apology, he knew very well. The moment of her fiery anger was passed, but he had enjoyed the peak into the woman behind the slave Cora had beaten and molded into creation for five long years.

"I suppose I could be pushing you too hard." He admitted in a thoughtful murmur with a laconic heave of his thin shoulders. "Perhaps I am hoping for too much to soon." Abruptly the fiend waved his gray-gold. "And stop flinching. I don't make a habit of striking defenseless slave girls for any cause. I am not of the same means as your lovely mistress. You've no fear of pain from me."

Belle nodded inwardly to herself, clutching his heavenly words with a strangling grip to her heart. Relief wonderfully soothed like a warm wind through her heart with his welcome declaration. The ignoble habit was long ingrained in her, but she did not think he had that type of pernicious nature. Certainly he could and did get angry with her sometimes but never had he lain a hand upon her for any reason.

She didn't fear his power though he could have easily harmed her, but years with Cora were hard to shake off. When a hand was raised she stiffened on instinct preparing for a blow, when magic hummed dreadfully through the air her belly flipped into a wave of icy terror.

"Here." Remorse for snapping at the beauty lined his voice with gruff softness. Guilt for yelling at her lanced at his dark heart with an uncomfortable force. He shouldn't yell at her, he supposed sorrowfully. Cora snapped at her for almost anything, even the most trivial of things. She didn't need another angry voice assailing her.

Bending down the Dark One took up the wooden bowl and held the container out to her. Sending a pulse of magic through the room he summoned the water back to rest in the oaken vessel. Trails of cold liquid shivered upon the floor and slowly began to form back as one. Slowly, goaded by magic, the wet slipped like a water serpent back into the bowl.

"Try again." He encouraged, his voice soft and understanding as he passed the filled bowl to her.

Belle nodded dutifully and grasped the refilled bowl of water. Exhaling deeply she took a confident step back and started the process over again. Chants fell melodically from her lips as she muttered the incantation for the liquid. Placing the bowl in the niche on the right, she sprinkled a gray powder over the water and took three steps to the right.

A large smile blazed upon the fiends face at the successes. Pride filled his heart to bursting to see she had done the entire ritual for the water without error. The words were a bit off and her steps a trifle uneven, but nothing a another day of practice would not fix. "Excellent, Belle. You are a quick study." The magical fiend nodded tersely, his lips hiding a grin.

Praise? Belle almost laughed at his commending. Her pink lips wove into a satisfied grin upon her lovely visage. When was the last time she had been told she'd done something right? Cora only ever pointed out what she did wrong and what she did properly was never made mention of. Had she been slave for so long, admiration was a novel to her enthralled senses?

"You've done modestly well for the day." The magical monster noted before she could offer thanks. Turning away he beckoned a talon to her. "Come. We've other things to do than just practice form. You were a little off in your pronunciations. Everything needs to be spot on."

"Is wild magic so dangerous?" Belle asked tentatively as she followed the Dark One through the endless hall of bleak shadow of her mistress's dour stronghold. His boot steps covered two of her own strides as he moved swiftly through the stone apertures like some murderous wraith wandering the bleak corridors.

His lips formed thinly into a thoughtful frown. "Very. Which is why Cora has no qualms with me enlisting you're aid." The fiend informed her studiously. "This is very dangerous. Wild magic, as the name implies, is the only kind that has a mind of its own. Sometimes this type of magic can be painful. If the rituals are not preformed just so, you might die. All the magic is looking for is an opening, to slip through and run wild. One motion, one chant out of place gives the power that chance."

No better task for a useless slave, Belle knew, her soul heavy with despondency. Cora had no interest if she lived or died past her own pleasure in tormenting her when the mood arose. If she had to be sacrificed in the midst of some ritual then so be the circumstance.

"Do you think we can do this?" Belle followed him closely like a second shadow clinging to his wiry form. Her steps muted over his, she lingered like some angel sent from above upon his shoulder.

"Control the magic?" The words barked in a dark mirthless laugh from his throat. A manic trill frilled from his mouth as he flourished his talons. "Nothing in wild magic is certain, Dearie. We could practice for years endless and still go awry. There is action and reaction. The most important part of wild magic is judging what the magic wants to do and countering the want. If you are wise you will live through this. If you cling to my every word as law you might see another sun rise. And if you don't… well there won't be enough for Cora to punish if we are through."

Belle bobbed her head obediently. "I'll try my best." Trepidation hinted the edges of her voice. Her stoic heart fluttered faintly at the thought of such peril. Who knew what the magic was capable of if allowed to break from the constraints set by the rituals.

"Indeed you shall for your sake and for mine." Tittered the fiend whimsically as though the thought of performing the dangerous ritual was but a game. "Let's not forget what you do also effects me."

She could just as easily cause injury for him with her blundering. If she was feeling vengeful or wished a way to get back at Cora that would be the best way to perform such a disastrous feat. If she wished to, just by upending everything she could probably blast herself to oblivion and everything in Cora's castle all in one go.

Of course, he and his lover would survive, but they would not come out unscathed. All the magic Cora had collected as well would have been for not. They would have to start afresh and the blast would indeed perhaps draw the fairies from miles about, sensing the outburst of the wild magic running amuck.

If in his position, Cora would have threatened the girl in every way imaginable. Indeed, the vile witch had given him every vile leave to do whatever he pleased to keep her in line, but he had done nothing, his hand low and threats unspoken.

Surely, Belle already knew what would occur if she failed. There was no need to speak of the dread when she probably already knew what would come from Cora's wicked imagination. Perhaps her only trepidation came from what he would do to her if something went awry.

"I know that fear of punishment is not always the best approach to those who serve." He stopped in the hall and turned to her. The eternal darkness shadowed his face in a cowl of black, but his sable eyes, so dark in their sockets, glowed from the dimness like the pits of the endless deep. "Serve me well and I will reward you well."

Shock flashed over the beauty's visage at the sudden promise. Confusion scrambled through her mind in a sudden jolt that sent her head reeling. Unlike Cora he offered reward instead of a punishment if she failed. Why give her incentive when his lover offered only pain?

Shaking her head the brown haired beauty lowered her eyes in deference to his kindness. "As you say master."

"Rumpelstiltskin." The moniker jumped involuntarily from his thin lips. Why had he just said that? Hiding his confusion away at his own words he stared down upon her like a curious dragon watching a human for the first time. "My name is Rumpelstiltskin. I am not your master."

And he expected her to call him that? Melodious laughter rang joyously through Belle's head merrily at the ludicrous thought. The first and last time she had called Cora's name aloud, the witch had slapped her so hard she had seen double for twenty minutes.

Belle was her slave and she made certain the beauty knew of low a station she was now and forever. No, she did not dare, especially with Cora near.

A nearly shy smile ghosted upon his gray lips at her long silence. What must she be thinking about his strange title? "Odd name, I know."

"I like your name." Belle grinned sincerely to the Dark One. Her pure cobalt eyes glimmered with an aura of truth, dispelling any notion of falsehood. "I don't think it odd at all. The name fits you very well."

He began walking again, slower to match her steps as the threaded their way through the halls. "How so?" He queried, his heart pattering in a strange tattoo from her odd declaration. No one ever said they liked his moniker.

"Well you're not just anybody. You're the Dark One." She flourished her hand in mimicking just as she'd seen him do at times at the table. "Rumpelstiltskin!"

Quiet laughter, almost human, fell from his thin line of a mouth. He had never thought of his name in such a manner. He had always thought his name a terribly strange mouthful his cowardly father had bestowed upon him as one last taunt to say how much he loathed his son.

The fiend would have continued their chat had they not reached the door to their destination. He often wondered about her apt name, and wished to know how the moniker came about. In all truth, he wished to know more about; all about her. Speaking with the beauty was a strange dose of fresh air to his soul.

Cora's words always had malice dripping between his painted lips. Her words were always about vengeance or pain, never simply speaking about pleasantries or names for that matter.

As they neared the portal the spell suddenly ended. Their jovial, curious voices dropped away as one, once more servant and master. Laughter died upon the drafty winds and stole away as a dying dirge throughout the dour keep leaving them where they had began in their brief journey.

The Dark One put a scaled fist to his hand and sternly cleared his throat. His sable orbs laced with coolness surveyed her intently. "Let's get to working on those chants." He muttered officiously. Inwardly he marked the brief conversation in the depths of his sordid heart. Seeing another layer under the servant was certainly… enjoyable.

Gentlemanly, the magical monster held open the door for her. The action never crossed his thought, but they seemed all the more novel to the beauty so long bereft of any kindness or courtesy.

Nodding, Belle trekked bravely inside before him, leaving the woman behind the slave tucked away once more. With a deep breath, the Dark One followed, forcing the being in him she coaxed out back down to the murky pit.

Outside the threshold of the door, they warily shed what they had tenuously begun. Though they were once more master and servant, they left an all but hidden trail in their smiles and laughter showing them where they could go to see the man behind the monster and see the woman behind the maid.


	9. A Night of Magic

Night came unusually crisp in the mid summer season of the realm that called Cora's deplorable black citadel home. Melancholy crickets sang their symphony to the wailing wind shrieking over the porous stones. Air gusting over the thin crevices in the basalt rock hewn into a demons crown of the witches keep and the limbs of the trees wailed like ghosts of the castle long since destroyed by Cora's cruel hands.

Large gray owls hooted their hungry inquires into the blackness and stared upon the castles dreaded fanged spires with round golden orbs. Not even they, with their wisdom and power with rending talons of steel and beaks of razors dared even soar over the hide of the citadel. Even if they once risked the peril of her murderous ravens, none dared to fly near the castle on such a night where magic was palpable through the air.

Above, the celestial wheel glowed like a pale lantern in the velveteen darkness. Moonbeams slanted obloquy through the treacherous forest plaintive woodland canopy. The brown skeleton branches of dead trees and pines latticed the moon from below, casting the pale shadow in dapples upon the forest floor and played like morbid puppets upon the stone wall that enclosed the castle.

Night, Rumpelstiltskin knew, was the only time for the most powerful of wild magic to be summoned. Mystic essence of the magic rose from the cooled earth like milky fog though not many could tap into the power. While the moon was never truly seen upon the grounds of Cora's palace, the celestial orb served a purpose in culling the fierceness of druidic power all the while bringing the magic out of the days slumber.

Now, above everything else, was the time to perform the wild magic. When the sun had set, both he hand the enslaved girl had set about feverishly to put things in place. Bowls were gathered, regents counted and tendered, candles places and a host of other tasks to make certain the ritual went by smoothly. Over and over they perused their items making certain not a sprig or candle was out of order.

Cora, in no position to even be in sniffing distance of the magic, sequestered herself inside her tower. The magic of the wilderness had no love for her. Not after she had so ruthlessly wrenched the magic from the gnarled hands of their keepers and burned their trees whilst staining their land with blood.

To some degree, the though of Cora not being present to attend the ceremony was a blessing in disguise to the magical fiend. Her hard scrutiny would make his assistant all the more nervous. How could she concentrate if she knew the cunning eyes of her captor strafed over her, looking for any flaw to punish later? No, better to be alone to coax the magic to bind.

Delicately placing a bowl upon a stone table, the Dark One carefully backed away from the make do altar. They used a room Cora had cleared out with magic for their dangerous purpose. Barren stone walls, once gilt with riches, enclosed the chamber at all sides. The well sized chamber had a stone door, engraved with sigils to at least bite back some of the wild magic if the power went awry. The sigils would not stop anyone without magic from being destroyed but the runes would allay some of the damage.

The altar in the room was a black stone slab as wide as a marble coffin lid was the same color and feel of Cora's keep. Wooden bowls and cups all filled with certain elements festooned the altar were arranged in a large infinity shape spread intermittently with yellowed tallow candles. In the center of the infinity one tall tallow candle jutted forth, towering over the implements upon the altar.

Eyes strafing over the altar, the Dark One fought the urge to swallow an intrepid lump in his throat. His fingers twitched and his palms leaked sweat of cold clamminess as the hour drew near. An old wound, hidden for years throbbed at the side of his gray-gold hide with each moments passing. Instinctively, he massaged the hidden wound under the scaled skin. He had forgotten how much he hated wild magic.

When first harnessing the legendary powers of the Dark One he thought himself invincible. Nothing was out of his budding expertise or ancient skill at his fingertips. At the foolish thought a deprecating smirked flashed on his thin lips. How quick he was to learn otherwise.

"Everything's ready now." Belle claimed quietly from behind the scaled imp, jerking the fiend out of his inward memories.

Blinking rapidly to rid himself of the past that flashed so bright before his eyes, the Dark One turned to the woman lingering about the door. The soft orange glow of candle light paled against her face, turning her into almost a mystical essence herself. Her hair appeared a soft umber and shone like her azure eyes. His pulse sped as her voice reached his ears in sweet melody. His nerves thrilled but he wasn't certain if that was from the magic or something more.

Caution veiled Belle's lovely features as she stared at the odd articles of magic arranged in their places. They had done plenty of mock ceremonies but the altar under the pale sheen of the candles looked suddenly foreign to her eyes.

She was no coinsurer of magic, but some aura pulsed off the set pattern. The hair on the back of her neck flared out on end as the lingering magic swept over the room in an exploratory touch.

Yes, the magic knew very well what was about to happen.

Sternly gathering his wits, the fiend nudged his head to the stone table. "Stop dawdling then; we're wasting moon light." His voice softened, suddenly regretful of his cold tone. She had to be even warier than he. "So long as you obey we should be alright." The Dark One assured awkwardly.

A hint of mirthless laughter nearly left his lips as the words died away. When was the last time he had encouraged anyone?

Breathing deeply, the beauty nodded stoically. Bravery flared in her heart as she padded forward to the opposite side of the altar. Gently, the girl picked up an empty bowl. She guessed on instinct, more than truly knew, if the vessel was the correct one.

Abruptly, as though giving a feint before a fight, the wild magic about them jabbed out. Prickling power ghosted over Belles arms like thousands of tiny spiders, testing her mettle for the task. The magic, above all, would not tolerate the weak trying to control the essence.

Hands shaking violently at the sudden out burst, the beauty fought back a scream. Her heart stopped and lurched in her body with abject terror of wild magic already awry. As she jumped back the container fall from her tremulous grip. A clatter echoed through the room like some strike of thunder at her first blunder. The bowl wobbled at her feet, showing her guilt in plian detail.

A black curse of her own make scolded her inwardly for the mistake. They had not even truly begun and she had become some clumsy lout. Cringing as she picked up the bowl, the beauty dared not look into the midnight eyes of the Dark One. "I'm sorry…." She muttered tenuously and grasped the bowl once more. If she had dropped something so important to Cora her face would have been stinging. Part of her wondered was his temper the same now that they were not in practice any longer.

"No harm done." The fiend plucked the bowl from her grip and laid the item back in place. "Be more careful next time." He warned softly. Now, he knew, was not the time to be the scolding teacher. Now was time for the real thing.

Belle breathed a sigh of relief, soothed by his patience. Her heart pattered once more from the cold stillness of fright. Confidence glimmered like a warm light leading the way from a dark wood. "I will." She promised fervently, her heart taking an oath to do the ritual right.

"Let's start again then." He motioned the beauty to the part of the stone slab opposite of him. "Be warned though. We've no more time to spare. We can make no more mistakes from here."

Once both were in position, the Dark One began the ritual. Standing face to face on opposite sides of the altar, the fiend closed his eyes. There was no trepidation from him about the girl blundering, he sensed in himself, only in the wild magic. Though she could bungle something, he trusted her like he breathed - naturally.

Magic tinged his black fingertips a deep lavender hue as he summoned his power from his vile, murky blood. Power crackled like a small jolt of lightening from his index finger.

Delicately, with his magic, he drew strange runes in the stone tabletop. His fingers worked vapidly in careful instruction of the task. Swirls formed and lines without a wary flaw gouged intricately upon the black stone. If he made one error in the lettering he could easily destroy all the magic Cora had collected and everything else about him as well.

Vapidly, ancient inscription forged by magic slowly appeared upon the table. The stone work changed to allow the engraving a dark hue than the rock. The faint scent of silky sweet magic hung cloyingly in the air from his perilous chore.

The smell wasn't bad, Belle noticed as she stared intently upon his work and droned a chant he taught her. Unlike Cora's magic that smelled like pungent ammonia, but just different.

A tenuous breath of relief rattled past his thin gray lips as he finished the carving upon the stone. Damson wisps of magical smoke curled into the cool air and glided away on the drafty breath. Steadily, the fiend calmed his black heart and forced the magic to the most powerful. Now the harder part could begin.

"Get the vial with the water." Rumpelstiltskin commented gently as though speaking too loudly would end them in a douse of pernicious fury. He motioned to a bowl belonging to a gray stone mortar and pestle. "Pour the water into the stone bowl and do not spill a single drop."

If even a dash of water fell upon the runed table the magic would try to break free. Waters counterpart was not stone and the magic would not expect the union.

Nodding, Belle delicately plucked up the vial of water. The cold, rippling water glowed in an eerie, twinkling blue as though some compound in the liquid was active. The water had not seemed like such a few hours ago, but under candle light the liquid was restless.

Magic, the beauty ascertained warily, the wild magic was upon the water; perhaps _was _the water. Tipping the vial, she poured gently, her mind focusing on letting every drop roll out.

Magic, strange and dangerous, hummed through the air as she finished the task. The water swirled in a vortex of its own inside the bowl.

"Now oil in the wooden bowl." The dark master commanded next.

Nervously Belle took up a bowl filled with sweet smelling oils. The oil smelt of fragrant lavender and peony but the touch was almost like pine sap. To Belle, the oil was the least of her worries for the bowl was a wooden one. She nearly opened her mouth to inquire upon the foolish request but clamped her mouth shut. Now was not the time to be asking about changes.

Putting the wooden bowl in place she took a sprig of incense from the side of the black altar. Alighting the tip upon the center candle she then dropped the incense into the bowl. For a brief instance the fire did not catch. A thin sliver of smoke snaked from the oil but nothing more.

Inwardly, Belle's heart paused at the lack of flame. There was supposed to be fire. Her breath stopped in her lungs. Had they taken a misstep already? Was even now the magic about to engulf them and snuff out their lives?

Just as she was about to light another twig of incense, abruptly the flames shot up in a brief blaze. Blinding light flared into the room making the pair see spots. The tips of the flames shot to the ceiling as though searching for any dry wood not already enchanted by the Dark One.

Taken aback, Belle danced away. Heat, hungry and greedy, pulsed against her skin. For a moment she thought she had gone awry and that she was doomed to die. Instantly the water in the next bowl rose up like some shark against hapless prey. Slamming against the pillar of fire, the water attacked the conflagration. Quelling the flames the waters brought down the fire back to the bowl.

Gray steam billowed in thick belches to the rafters from the sudden brawl of fire and water, but noting disastrous occurred. Like the fiend had explained, the wild magic was all about balance and carefulness.

Unshaken by the display, the Dark One readied himself for the next part. "The sack of earth next." He motioned his talons to the bag Cora had brought not long ago.

Taking the unicorn hide bag, Belle dumped the contents into another wooden bowl. The ground shook under her as she did so as though the stone gave deference to the clumps of moist earth, but nothing more.

Brief laughter nearly fell from her lips. After the last part of the wild magic, who would have though she was grateful for a small earthquake instead.

"Last of all." The Dark One grimaced and pointed a black nail to another vial. "Wind." His stomach shrank inwardly even as the words peeled from his lips.

Belle spared a glance his way, her blue eyes glittering intrigue and nerves. Staring at him, she all but read behind his eyes. Though he tried to hide his anxiousness, she could see the wariness upon his face. "Wind is dangerous?"

"Not if my sigils are right." He replied cautiously. A long time had passed since he'd dabbled in druid magic. After the last time he had hoped never to again. "You may feel a bit shaky though once the ritual begins. This type of magic has five different components; water, fire, earth, wind, and life. We're getting to the tricky part now."

Nodding studiously, Belle grasped the vial of wind. Wariness skipped through her heart but she did not feel so nervous as she knew she should. Oddly enough she trusted his magic. He was the Dark One after all; surely he knew what he was doing.

Uncorking the bottle she never got a change to ask what to do with the opened container. Air did not necessarily go into a bowl.

In the blink of an eye, the roar of a gale shrieked through the room with utmost fury. Taken off guard by the sudden torrent of magic screaming through the air, the beauty let the bottle drop. The glass phial shattered in every conceivable direction turning the floor into a menagerie of glinting sharp glass as she clapped her hands over her ears.

The candles alit upon the wild alter die in a breath of power leaving only the flames in the bowl for light.

Free, the wind swirled about the room in a dust devil of galloping power. To be free again! The force of the tempest wind caught up the other three elements in the swirling arms of the fateful zephyr. Fire and water and earth swirled about the stone table in a column of vibrant hues.

Blue water mingled with the bright red-orange of brimstone and earth floated sluggishly upon the tornado. Because of the earth element the vortex seemed somewhat stayed, but the fierceness seemed not dimmed in the least.

Belle felt her blood afire at the spectacle of wild magic running free of the constraints of the elements in which they were endowed. Molten lava galloped through her veins and thrilled Goosebumps along her peach toned flesh. Her heart slammed hard against her chest as though any moment her brave heart would break free of her chest and fly amongst the tumult of elements.

She felt as though the wind were taking a part of her and sapping her strength to indulge the elements. Her knees wobbled from the tether the magic clasped unto her and used to steal her energy. The beauty wobbled, but she dared not lean on the altar for support. Now above anything they could not afford something to go wrong.

Grabbing a sacrificial dagger from the table the Dark One gazed over the table at the amazed beauty. This part he had not told her of. The hardest, most painful part of the fifth element.

By his patience and tutelage he had earned her trust and now he was moments from losing her good faith.

His scaled talons flexed nervously over the cold leather handle of the dagger as he steadied himself. Guilt assailed his pounding shriveled heart at the knowledge of what he was about to do. He should, he knew he should but….

Cursing himself roundly the Dark One shot his hand upward to parallel the whirling vortex. His hair fluttered widely in the gale displaying just a tinge of gray at the edge of his dirty brown tresses. Onyx eyes glittered in the display of blinding colors. A crazed smile donned his gray lips as he shot the dagger upward in the other hand.

Words jabbered from his clenched mouth in a mantra of time gone by. Slowly, he drew the knife meant for the beauty's flesh across his palm. A hint of pain flinched against his face but he did not cry out.

Black blood oozed from his sliced scaled hand in a gush of ichor. The life essence slowly trailed down to his wrist as he sliced his palm from one end to the next.

He was supposed to have taken Belle's blood, but at the last moment he disbanded the notion. Besides, his was the blood of magic. His blood would be better served at the task, though he knew what price would come later.

All magic had a price. Even blood magic.

The magic as though sensing his offering of blood, took up the essence in the unstoppable whirlwind. Round and round the tornado spun, slowly becoming a sickly red color of fresh spilled blood. Soon the tornado was fully the hue of blood. The winds roared as though in approval as the blood bound all the elements as one.

Abruptly, the vortex began to transform. The zephyr became smaller and malformed as though some invisible hand were molding the wild power. Smaller and smaller the orb began to shrink and mutate, leaving the tornado into a carnelian orb.

In what seemed like moments the magic was over, leaving a ruby ball floating in the air. Plucking the orb wrought from the vortex of wild magic from the air, the fiend grasped the culled magic covetously. The glassy ball filled with magic was smooth and swirled inside with different shades of red ranging from dull crusted blood to the intensity of ruby.

Sitting in the palm of his scaled hand, the orb pulsed with vibrant growth. Here was a pearl of wild magic

A smile frayed the magical fiend's gray-gold features as he inspected the orb. From now on putting wild magic into the orb would be an easy task. The magic was hungry and always greedy for more power.

"Voila!" The Dark One laughed flamboyantly, his impish trill renewed with the passing of danger. Holding his hand out he displayed the prized orb to the beauty. Snapping his talons, the fiend beckoned fire back to the candles to flood the room with light.

Wide eyed, Belle stared in awe at the smoothed pearl. The sheen of the orb glinted against the oranges flames of the candles. "It's beautiful." She admitted in strictest whispered. Merry laughter drifted melodically from her smile mouth at the sight of success. "You did it! I knew you could!"

Her heart felt glad for him, exuberant for his success in something he admitted was dangerous. He had guided them through, used his magic and come out the victor with them mostly unscathed.

Knew he could? At the words he forced surprise away from his face. Her exclamation sounded so utterly absurd. She said that as though she believed in him.

Gladness filled their hearts as one in some tsunami of elation. Together they had crossed so perilous a boundary, trusting one another. In the throes of the wild magic they had formed an odd alliance that saved pulled them through.

Excitedly, both began to speak to each other. All at once they shed their shadows of master and servant. They spoke as sudden allies with smiles and fearless thoughts in a jumble of words, still off the high of their success.

"I thought we were in trouble at the fire."

"I knew you could handle it. I told you, you were a quick study. You think on your feet."

"Tell me, why did you slash your hand?"

"Speaking out of turn slave?" Cora smooth voice slithered unwelcomingly about the still magic tingling room as they spoke. Like a vile shadow, the witch slipped inside, bearing down blacker darkness into the room.

Now that the magic was sealed and contained in the orb, the power could not try to lash out at her.

In an instant the happy exuberance for the Dark One faded from the beauty's visage. Their words died away like the fight the magic had given as she appeared from the shadows. Once more, the slave girl crept forth from the true woman beneath the eternal servant. Ducking her head she stepped away from the fiend. She knew better than to overstep Cora's rules.

A smile carved Cora's lush mouth as she entered the light with her stately malice. Thin heels clicking upon the stone floor, she stood before the table like some sinister priestess after some bloody sacrifice. Carefully like some cunning cat the witch flicked her eyes to the orb of magic's wild.

Wicked delight enveloped her features giving show to her cruel pleasures. Her blood red mouth curled into an approving grin. "Well done Rumpel. You managed without much damage I see."

"Not so difficult, Cora." A cocky smirk tilted his lips. He toyed with the glassy orb of volatile magic betwixt his talons as though the pearl were a child's toy in his grip.

"You did sustain some injury though." Her almond eyes flicked down to the bowed slave. Her cruel smile pulled into a grim frown of displeasure. She hadn't missed the girl had no blood staining her even if she hadn't overheard. "I thought I said use the slave's blood, Rumpel."

The Dark One tittered and displayed the ruby marble like a trinket to distract his beloved. Belle knew nothing of the last part to the magic. She could hardly be blamed. "More powerful mine." He countered in a chortle.

The witch sauntered close to the fiend, her sensuous body like a prowling cats. Her hands took his own in her magic laden grip. Her gloved finger trailed the already healing cut along his pale palm. "Now you an ugly have a gash on your hand." Her bottom lips jutted out in a pout.

"It will heal." He remarked lowly and placed his hand above hers.

She smiled up at him, her other spell worn hand curling over his claws like ravens talons. "Well at least this is done. We should celebrate." She motioned a hand towards the beauty. Even though the Dark One had succeeded she had not forgotten the girls hands were not stained with blood. "Clean the glass up slave and bring us wine from the cellar." She commanded. "After that, since dawn is almost on the way, you may start to clean the north corridor and get an extra start on your chores."

Belle bobbed her head in obedient deference, ready to serve, but the Dark One stopped her.

Holding her hands tightly, he directed the harpy's vile attention. "Cora, my love, your slave has served you well." He argued for the beauty.

After there magic she had to be drained. Even he, the most powerful sorceress was feeling unsteady. Aches rocked his body and shuddered through his bones. She had had no sleep and was now told to clean moved his black heart in a tinge of injustice to her plight.

The witch perched an incredulous brow. "I should hope so. That's its job."

"The incantations were very taxing." The fiend prodded gently, his voice soft. "The wild magic did not just drain me. She was an adequate helper."

Eyes alit with understanding, Cora frowned. Though he did not speak the words she knew what he was aiming for. "You were always a stickler for fairness." She huffed in displeasure and turned to Belle once more. Still, he had gotten her one step closer to her plots. If he wanted a break for the slave girl then that was nothing.

"Slave you may have the morning in your cell." The witch flicked her fingers in the direction of the girl's cell.

Shock struck the brown haired girl like a fist slammed against the side of her head. The beauty blinked owlishly, not comprehending the words. "Mistress…?"

"Go!" Snapped Cora, her mouth cut into a cruel frown. Already, some feeling niggled at her rotten heart that something wasn't right. Why did the Dark One care all of a sudden if a slave got a few hours of rest and why had he cut his own palm? The wild magic would have taken any dose of blood.

Not daring to say another word the beauty scuttled past the sorceress and swept down the bleak halls like some fleeing ghost. If she wasn't so wary of her good fortune she might have done a cartwheel. No work till the evening? She could hardly believe her luck! But then again her luck had been changing little by little since the Dark One's arrival at his lover's ominous stronghold.

He had promised her a reward, she remembered from their brief conversation in the hall. There had been truth to his words at the time but she had all but forgotten them. Promises were not something she usually kept up with in her situation.

A word of thanks fled her lips silently as she flew down the black stairs to her cell. To have extra rest seemed the best gift given in all her years.

Pushing her door open the enslaved beauty crept into her cell. The ritual had been taxing true enough, but she felt tired not at all. Her blood hummed wildly like some errant spark ignited her senses and her mind whirled to fast to offer any hopes of some sleep on the cold, hard floor.

She thought of too many things to sleep.

In her head thought of the magic, of the moon, of the vortex, and of the Dark One who stood by her and preformed the power. Oh yes, she thought much of him; of his black eyes and his smile and even the gray-green skin which seemed so much like gold in the fire light.

As she entered the cage, the beauty immediately knew something was not all together normal. The cell was still barren as it had been all her long days a slave in the thrall of Cora but now for the first time something different lay upon the cold stone.

Looking down, the beauty stared incredibly at what awaited her. A lone book with a red leather face sat in the center of her floor along with a candle to read by before the dawn light slipped through the window.

Frozen by the sight, Belle could barely see the gift with the hot tears that suddenly pricked her cobalt eyes.

No, the Dark One was not a man to forget his promises.


	10. Companionship

Things evolved slowly after the moment of camaraderie forged upon the errant currents of wild magic. The perilous moment wrought betwixt them had been a tenuous slender thread, ready to snap away at any moment, but instead was twined stronger into a frail frayed cord binding them in a tether of surreptitious understanding. Accomplishment brought a sense of understanding coaxing their ghosting, wary moments out of the shadows from their cloaked persons.

A careful word here, a clandestine smile there, a witty quip or two scattered about all began to manifest in the course of the days betwixt master and servant. Rarely an ill word crossed their lips and those were quickly mended over whispered apologies and gruff relenting.

Despite the darkness swarming in his bleak heart, scolding him, the Dark One was watchful over the slave of his lover, though he tried to disabuse himself from the notion. He knew he should not have felt such a instinct to protect her, and the malice in him certainly relayed that, biting into his murky soul, but he could not help himself.

There was something about the girl that drew his attention like a moth to a dancing candles flame. Always there was an excuse to aid her and without fail he leapt upon the moment that presented itself to be her rescuer.

His growled words were often those of clemency and rough kindness when Cora was not haunting about the shadows of her vile lair. Under his gaze the enslaved beauty was given a tremulous ally in her eternal thralldom. They hardly spoke to one another, but there was understanding in silence and perhaps even companionship.

When she took task to dusting the great main hall and all the bibelots within their stone and glass coffins, he would forever find a reason to spin the worthless tawny straw until she left. His sable orbs snatched curious glances of her sweeping about the room like some angel come down in the morass of filth until her chore was done and the spell of her presence was broken upon his vile heart. His always felt elated at her presence and fell back to the hallow of his chest when she departed into the darkened halls to tackle another labor.

When she attended them at their meals he made certain to keep an eye on Cora's night and day temperaments blistering inside her sensuous darkness. The magical fiend did not like to see the girl Belle punished for a simple misstep caught under the merciless gaze of his lover. Anger and disgust both simmered within him to see her caught in the grip of pain tightened and squeezed by Cora's malicious, spell clever fingers. If he could he tried to direct her anger or even send Belle upon some task in the kitchen to fetch some sort of rare item that would direct her time out of Cora's gaze.

The Dark One cursed himself a pitying fool for his aid to the enslaved beauty, but still he found himself being a saving grace when he swore he would let matters lie betwixt mistress and slave.

Day after day he tried to stop himself, to let matters lie, to not care of her plight.

Yet day after day he failed.

~8~8~

"Good morning." Belle greeted pleasantly as she appeared through a dim aperture at a corner of the main hall. A soft smile domed her lips as they did every morning now as she stared her daily chores through the dread keep.

The Dark One was often up long before Cora stirred from her plush, feathered bed and began to harangue her and bark out orders for the day. Belle had gotten used to his early rises, nay even looked forward to them from her awakening from the cold stone of her black cage.

Placing a gray-gold claw lightly upon the spinning wheel's border, the Dark One halted the circuitous cycle. Though he tried with all his beastly being not too give her notice, the fiend always paused the wheel ancient cycle just for a moment to bid her good morning. If nothing else he could at least give her a greeting that made her feel like a person and not some stupid beast meant only to labor with back-breaking tasks.

Something akin to a grin faintly split his thin lips. "Good morning." He nodded his head slightly in her direction, his eyes sparkling like black diamonds upon his scaled features.

Deep down in the depths of his sable heart, the Dark One relished in her ever tenuous greeting to him and him alone. She never bid Cora good morning. In fact she did many things about him she dared not do about Cora. While she kept her head bowed in Cora's sinister presence, she looked up at him, her azure orbits meeting his fearlessly and almost in friendship. She spoke freely around him, when about the witch she dared never open her mouth save to answer a question or broach an inquiry for some clarification. Even when he was present and she was doing her chores she pleasantly hummed about him as she toiled, knowing he would never bark at her or scold for the slight melodic tune.

They had special little camaraderie, he had she, a connection of shaky trust tenuously bound by a frayed thread about their being that slowly entangled them.

Carefully carrying the silver tray of toast and berry jam, the enslaved beauty deposited her burden to the large oaken table in the center of the ostentatious room. Assiduously laying out the spread she talked to the Dark One from behind her shoulder. "Will mistress Cora be down soon?" She queried, her voice flickering with a mellowed tinge sadness. The very name of her cruel captor filled her heart with dour darkness.

A small thrill involuntarily coursed through the fiend's dark veins. Though he shouldn't have, he had been waiting for this all morning, eager with a surprise upon his tongue. Though the surprise wasn't actually good for him, the small announcement was wondrous for the woman forever caught in Cora's sights of cruelty. "Cora will not be joining us. She's gone for the day." He informed her gently.

Finally after long weeks this was a time for words freely spoke without the shade of Cora snuffing out their contact. There communication had been in small actions since the weaving of magic, but now they could bandy words without fear of Cora jutting in or casting Belle into an arduous chore or even punish her for speaking out of her caste.

Belle turned about, elated by the news. Her heart soared freely with the knowledge Cora was spirited away to amble the realms for a day. A smile that could have lighted up the darkest mines like the evening sun beamed from her lovely features. "I see." She remarked simply, not daring to say what else flickered upon her tongue. Nothing but joy sparkled in her cobalt eyes at the jubilant news.

"She told me to make sure you kept to your chores." The fiend warned and begun to spin once more. The spokes turned into a brown blur as he motioned the wheel into the cycle. Of course, he was the one to dole out her chores and for the present he saw no duties that needed tending to. Mayhap, he smiled to himself, perhaps there was nothing that needed to be done.

Belle bobbed her head. "I will. It's just… sometimes it's good to have a little breathing room." Her breath caught abruptly as the hefty admission passed her lips. For a brief flicker of time terror and uncertainty dashed across her visage.

Was she so at ease with him about she dropped all decorum of her position? Such a thing would never void her lips if Cora was in sniffing distance of the castle. He was her dark lover, but she just admitted her want for a slower pace of chore in the keep and joy for his love being gone.

The Dark One's scaled brow knit at her words. His ebony eyes stared upon the twinkling thread thoughtfully, digesting the admittance. "You should be careful with what you say." He warned. Cora still did share his bed. He had obligations to her that he did not have to the beauty. Though he was not cruel to her, he would not stand for any words against Cora.

Belle nodded fastidiously taking the warning as any would when being cautious about a poisonous snake. "Yes." She turned back to the table and continued her work putting cream colored porcelain plates engraved with blue ivy work of flowers on the table. "Tea will be ready shortly." She placed a piping hot plate on his side of the table. "What type of tea would you like?"

"Whatever you think best." The fiend waved his scaled talons flippantly in her direction, feigning insouciance.

A giggle parted Belle's mouth. He acted as though he did not care but she knew otherwise. He always preferred a peach tea to Cora's darker stock of pungent, strong brews. "Your usual then." She hefted the silver gilded tray once more and padded out.

A smile quirked upon his scaled visage but he remained silent. He knew part of her job was to know her master and mistress' likes and oddities but the fact surprised him she remembered his odd tastes. Everyday she nervously asked her mistress what she would have though her flavors never strayed and yet every morn she brought his tea and breakfast ready and well without a word of query.

The door swept open once again as the beauty appeared in the main hall like some returning light of dawn. Peach perfume wisped through the cool air in pale gray vaporous streams curling from the curved spout.

On the chilling draft the winds of the ominous castle took the snaking fog to the Dark One, filling his senses with his favorite tea. Tendrils of gray fog coiled about his senses, alluring him with calming fragrance. A true smile waxed upon his features as he allowed the steam to coil about him.

Pouring the heady brown brew the beauty doctored his tea with two lumps of sugar and took him his chipped cup. Unlike what she did with Cora she always made an extra effort for him. Perhaps, the Dark One thought, because he was not a harsh task master to her. Thoughtfulness did have certain rewards, even from those who could not offer much.

"You don't need to bring me tea." He informed her softly as he took the chipped trinket from her cupped hands. The warmth of the cup pulsed through her calloused digits bringing a hint of heat to his wiry claws as he took the trinket.

Electricity sparked from their fingers as their hands but brushed one another in the faintest of touches. For too long the jolt had been occurring, but neither dared bring up the touch that paused their hearts tenuous beat for a few blinks in time.

Her face flushed a ruddy hue of ember upon her milky cheeks. "I don't mind." Her words came soft and bashfully as she folded her hand subserviently behind her back.

"No need for the extra trouble." The beasts sable eyes craned up to meet her gaze. Cobalt pools met his without fear. Her stare made his black husk of a heart twitch with life in his chest. Was there ever more beauteous eyes in all the realms?

Stepping away she giggled a faint laugh, her lips curved into a cheery smile. "You hardly afford me trouble master."

"Yet you always seem to stumble into such troubles." Parried the Dark One smartly, his lips curled a treasured, rare smile. Sipping his tea from the un-chipped edge, he stared at her from the rim of the gilded bibelot. "It makes me wonder have you always had a penchant for getting into terrible situations. I'm curious about you, slave, how you got into all this trouble of eternal servitude. Where did you come from, and how did you come by being Cora's servant?"

He had heard before, little snippets of Belle's past life dropped from the lips of his dark lover; a father, a kingdom, and rabid ogres rampant on the path of their war lust but not much else. The pieces were not all there, but what he could discern seemed to be an interesting tale to be told.

What had made her lot so desperate she had agreed to serve his lover for all eternity? Certainly he could think of nothing so worth such torment and servitude.

Like dark clouds over a blue sky, a frown replaced Belle's beaming smile. Claws of agony shredded at her bright heart, bringing down her joy in a slough of sorrowed memories.

Did he have to inquire of things so close to her heart?

Ducking her head the beauty heaved her shoulders in a shrug. "I come from a tiny realm by the sea." She began sadly. A melancholy laugh breathed faintly from her lips near frowning lips. "I could not even tell you which direction my old was in for Cora spirited me away. My father's kingdom and the people therein lived in happiness and peace before rampaging ogres turned their eyes to our prosperous realm. We didn't have many fighters but we tried to stave them off." Belle tossed her head as though denying the arrows of unpleasant memories entry into her skull.

Closing her eyes tightly she fought back the hot sting of tears. "Slowly we were losing the war. Many people died by the day, either by starvation, sickness, wounds or by the ogres themselves. My father was a trader not a fighter. He did his best, but his limited knowledge wasn't enough. When all seemed lost I… I contacted Cora. I made a deal that if she saved my people I would give her anything she wished. She told me plainly my people have nothing she desired but she could use a slave girl for her castle. And so I struck the deal."

Though her azure eyes were riveted shut, a hot tear slipped down her dirt stained cheeks as she relived the painfully memory. No spell or tincture could ever mend the pain from the memory and the sacrifice.

The etched brook of the tear sat pointedly upon her lovely features, a testament to her inward misery thrashing against her soul. "I… did not know the deal started at that moment. She took me from my home in an instant. Everything happened so quickly… I didn't…. I didn't even get to say goodbye to my family."

"_This Is home now slave." Cora grinned maliciously to the teary eyed Belle as she thrust her into a cold cell that was to be her only place of rest. Cruelty glittering in her almond eyes branded upon the beauty, her smile a lance into her heart. Her lips curled into a wicked sneer. "You are a noble no longer. Here you are a worm I allow to live."_

Belle remember the moment plainly, her mind still reeling from what had just occurred. She hadn't even seen if Cora's words were truth, or saw her dearest papa one last time before she departed. Her old life had ended then and a reign of torment began.

Shaking away the sadness that dragged her heart, the beauty opened her eyes. Tears shimmered in her cobalt depths but they did not tip from her bejeweled depths. "That's all I'm afraid. I have the life you see now." She finished lugubriously.

Coldness pooled in the Dark One's heart as she finished her tale. His mouth was a pencil thin line of gray aimed towards the blurred spokes of the spinning wheel. With all his black soul he wished he had not asked. He wish he had not let forth so much pain unleashed from the vault of her strong brave heart.

"Tragic." He muttered lowly not knowing what else to say from her miserable tale. Part of him wished to offer the most sincere of condolences his dark heart could afford, but who was he to dole out his pity to a slave. She had willingly placed herself upon the pedestal of Cora's cruelty.

Sturdily, a small smile tipped the edges of the beauty's lips. "It's not so bad now." She ducked her head shyly, her words strong even in the swamp of her melancholy.

At least now the days were not so fraught with grievous terror and lonesomeness. True, Cora was still a terror to behold but she now had at least someone to speak to on occasion who would not endow her with misery. With the Dark One she was allowed a little breathing room for error. He was not a cruel master who adored tormenting her as her mistress delighted so.

He was talking of him, the Dark One drew instantly. Exuberance not of his own dark designs fluttered like the alabaster wings of a dove in his chest. Her words, so soft and happy were meant for him. But how could such words be directed for him? He was the beastly Dark One, the lover of her tormenter. How could she possibly consider him some bright stream of light in her dour days?

"Tell me slave. Why are you not afraid of me?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, suddenly curious. His scaled claws turned the spinning device at a vapid pace. The wheel creaked sonorously with the slow turn of the spokes but neither paid heed.

Confusion knit the beauty's flawless brow in thin lines over her azure eyes. "Why would I be afraid? You are kind to me." Certainly she had been wary of his arrival at first but never afraid.

Never was she afraid of anything she did not know of first. To her, people were like books; no one could know what was in a persons heart until their truly peered inside. She had quickly learned to fear Cora, but she hadn't been terrified of her at first. Soon though she had seen what rottenness laid in that pallid husk of cruel beauty and malice.

"Kind?" He echoed the word, his tone incredulous. A scoff fell from his lips at such ridiculousness. He shook his straggly tresses. "I am many things, but far from… from _kind_." He spoke the word like tasting some strange elixir upon his tongue.

The brave beauty's slender shoulders heaved in a solicitous shrug. She knew better than to frontally argue the fact. He was so determined to never let his acts of goodness appear to be anything more than happenstances that benefited him. "Mayhap not kindness in your eyes, but certainly in mine. But who knows, maybe you're right. Maybe I've forgotten what kindness is."

"Matters that have saved you have been purely coincidental." He denied primly, his oily eyes glossy in the shaft of golden light that slipped through the curtains.

Laughter, full and sweet tumbled merrily from Belle's lush lips. He tried to look serious with the mask of cold hardness about his gray-gold features but seemed utterly comical in his act of stern somberness. "Surely coincidence then master."

"That's another thing." He kept his eyes riveted to the wheel hypnotic spin and the snaking thread of the straw conjured into glittering gold at his black boots. "I'm not your master. I made no deal for you. My name is Rumpelstiltskin as I believe I told you. Names have power and I do not give my name lightly. If I have given you something I think the matter only fair that you use it."

Quieter, lugubrious laughter slipped from Belle's mouth, her mouth tipped into a half grin. "Cora would never allow that." The first and last time she had dared call Cora by her dreaded moniker her head and spun for an hour.

"Cora also doesn't allow you to read books on your free time whilst she's away." The Dark One parried simply in an impish titter.

If she dared something so disastrous if she was caught why not dare his name. Besides, part of him was anxious too hear his name spoken from her mouth. He was eager to watch her lips form every letter and symbol and to feel his blood react to the moniker given from her tongue.

The beauty perched a brow. "Do you imply that should call you that when the mistress is away?" A smile twitched involuntarily at her mouth.

"I'm merely pointing out that being denied something does necessarily stop you." His dappled smile widened, caught up in her infectious grin and startling wit.

Not only was the beauty brave, but she had a brilliance to her that not even Cora could stifle with her abject cruelty. The girl's wit was as sharp as a freshly forged dagger and her intellect on par with his and Cora's perhaps even more so. Certainly the fact that she'd survived so long under her mistress's cold hand wasn't mere luck that had let her live in Cora's thralldom, but brilliance to keep her still breathing and her body in motion.

Considering his words, the beauty's lips pulled into a thoughtful half smile. He did have a point. Placing the newly barren gilt tray under one arm she gave a faint nod. "On one condition."

"Oh?" Darkness flared in his blood for a bargain.

"I will call you Rumpelstiltskin." She pointed a calloused finger to him and then to herself. "If you call me Belle."

He placed a hand on his brown brocade vest, his mouth agape in mock shock of her daring. "And when do servants start striking deals with their captors?" No malice, unlike Cora's, flared in his falsetto voice. Good nature sparkled in his ebon dots. His words were meant in jest not cruelty, never in cruelty to her.

"Since we are breaking rules." She countered with a soft grin.

Oh she was a clever one, Rumpelstiltskin noted jubilantly, extremely clever. Nodding laconically, the fiend turned the wheel faster. Another long strand of sparkling gold, new and conjured from he most unlikely source, slid between his fingers. "A deal then… Belle."

The beauty curtsied neatly, her form still refined from her days as a noble. "A deal then Rumpelstiltskin."


	11. Visitors

Something wasn't right.

The feeling deep in the grooves of Cora's wretchedly sable heart whispered the words to her malicious mind in warning. Her murky soul slashed the words upon her spirit, like a desperate message written in blood.

Something wasn't right, Cora knew explicitly. For a few weeks now she had known something was amiss. An ill feeling shadowed her intuition with black wing of suspecting bowered over her wicked heart. Some misfortune gnawed like a rabid wolf at her bones, only she did not know what exact trouble there was to cause her malady.

The thought, to say the least, had been driving her mad. Night and day when she held a spare moment against her plots the trouble re-surged from the morass of her darkness without fail. Her spirit, black as death and loathing, niggled with the off kilter ill she felt brewing amidst her foul being.

What was off, she wondered endlessly in the abysmal carousel of her mind. What was amiss?

"Careful now." Rumpelstiltskin cautioned as he watched his lover from the other side of the cleared stone table. His onyx eyes sat clapped to two vials in delicate her hands. Brackish oily green liquid sat in the right vial and bright crimson in her left. Pale teal and carnelian acrid vapors wisped from the open tops sending a noxious scent into the room.

Looking upon the beakers intently the fiend measured the bubbling, vicious fluid by eye. His sable depths slowly scanned both for any untoward reactions in their glass. Both were highly toxic and doubly dangerous when agitated to much.

"Only two drops to the green, Cora." The Dark One murmured, his lips barely moving. With such volatile fluids he did not dare draw his voice above a deathly breath. His body stood stock still like some horrendous gargoyle upon clothed hind legs. Only his chest gave away life still in his frozen figure.

Nodding faintly, the witch tenuously tipped the red vial to the mouth of the green. The syrupy scarlet fluid vapidly slid down the neck of the bottle to the rim. A perfect tear shaped drop fell out and then another. Before the last could fall, the witch jerked the beakers apart. The third drop from the red, let loose from the exchange, splashed to the stone table betwixt them.

Powerful oily gray smoke snaked in a line from the stone as the ruby fluid ate through the rock. Such liquid could melt through skin if given a an open area of flesh to devour.

"Done." Cora sighed in relief and lowered the two vial gently.

The mucus like substance in the green vial settled from its irate simmer like a soothed wolf making the elixir harmless to the touch. The potion was a delicate one, but produced a powerful toxin that could lay a dragon low if done right. The potion was rare and for good reason. With one thing amiss the makers of the tincture would find themselves maimed or dead.

Waving her small hands, the witch brought magic to her command. Swirls of blackness clawed up from the stone, like demons claws tearing out of the earth. Grasping the vials in their intangible hands of reeking magic, the power enveloped the phials in a cloud of darkness and spirited them away for safe keeping.

"The Silent Slumber." Rumpelstiltskin trilled the name of the concoction cheerily. He flourished his wriggling gray-gold talons through the cool air. "Guaranteed to make a sleep so sound nothing but death could awake you!"

Cora preened at the hard wrought potion forged by both their hands. There were big plans for that particular toxin in her schemes. "We sprinkle the elixir upon the fairies and they'll be out long enough for us to get what we need."

"With there magic it'll only last a few moments." The magical fiend snipped out a careless warning, his gray lips a crazed smile of dastardly delight.

Of course she would know the peril, but he couldn't not help but point out their small window of time just the same. If anything went wrong, they would be facing a buzzing, vibrantly luminous miasma of angry fairies out for blood and with wands to take such vengeance for their precious magic.

The cunning witch shrugged her shoulders demurely. "More than enough time." She purred to her lover, her lips carved into a ruby smirk. Abruptly the coyness fell from the painted veil, mutating her features into agitation. Her almond eyes turned to the stone door of the tower. "Speaking of time where is that slave. Luncheon is nearly due."

"Here Mistress." Belle pushed open the thick stone door just as the words fell from her cruel owner's mouth.

Dutifully, like some wary mouse in the undeniable domain of cats, she shuffled inside. Her breath panted heavily from her heaving body as she walked inside. The steps were steep and massive to the dreadful tower.

After her morning chores and a quick scurry for a lunch, she was all but exhausted upon the trek. Flights wove in a spiral to the top of the wretched point, the highest tower in Cora castle.

A frown pulled the edges of Cora' pursed lips. "You were almost late slave. I'd assume you would like to eat tonight and tomorrow."

Belle nodded dutifully, her head bowed. Being late usually meant no food herself. Cora saw everything as a means to punish and never held back her cruelty. There was no window of mercy for her, just a small sliver of time to get things right or suffer consequences.

Laboriously carrying the tray filled with goods, the beauty focused upon the piled high silver platter. Her hands curled in a vice over the trays edges, determined not to let the tray slip from her hands. With the height and time the journey took to get to the tower two trips simply would not do. Her only hope was to put everything on the tray in one tremulous venture and hope she did not spill.

Though one journey was her only recourse, admittedly, she wasn't the best balancing act around. At home she was jestingly called the clumsy princess and for good reason. She had once in her youth managed to make two rows of freshly polished knight's armor tumble down a hall whilst carrying a parasol. How no one had ever figured out, but then again, she was Belle through and through with the knack of doing the impossible.

Focusing upon the tray with all her flagged power, the beauty stared hard at the piled high contents. The only thing she'd left at the base of the stairs was the tea pot. That too would have been burdened upon the tray had there ban any scant room left to fit the ceramic. Of that missing item, Cora would have no recourse to snap upon her.

Walking upon treacherous path, the beauty balanced the fragrant goods with all her being. She dared not spill a single drop in front of her malicious mistress. Her pink tongue stuck out at the edge of her mouth displaying her iron wrought concentration to the treacherous task. Step by step she padded carefully to the stone table. So focused upon the tray she did not see the end of the faded Agrabah rug curled up like some viper waiting to strike her ankle.

Like fate snapping another line of her good fortune, disaster struck. Her frayed gold shoe tripped upon the tapered lip of the well worn rug causing her lurch forward directly in the face of the Dark One.

Food flew through the cloying magic air and delicate bowls filled with dainties of Cora's likes crashed to the floor in a clatter of silver cutlery and ceramic all jumbled together. Sugar and cream sluiced the gray floor with alabaster and plump grapes tumbled into crevices and rolled about the stone. The two plates burdened with their light meals tumbled down and crashed into a thousand shards coated with what was once on their burdens.

Gritty stone dug into Belle's knees and the scraped the heels of her hands as she crashed like some clumsy meteor to the rock. Falling to her face, the beauty barely felt the pain of the cold stone. Abject terror replaced any bruises she would most likely feel. Terror instead, clawed deep in her soul. Fear slammed upon her with the force of a strike that she knew would not be long in coming.

She had spilled everything….

Looking up, her face paled to a ghostly gray of terror. Splashes of cream and some pea green goop splattered against the Dark One's brown clothes. Bright beads of red dotted his wear near his sleeves and slashed a line ruby along his vest. Cream splotches spotted his knee length boots like white tears. The mess upon him was minimal in the overlook of his sinewy person, but there nonetheless.

Not only had she slipped the food but some stuck to the Dark One clothes.

"I'm so sorry Rumpelstiltskin!" Belle cried as she came to her knees. Arms working frantically she snatched up what she could and held the objects tight to her chest. Her mind reeled as she tried no make some sort of words to say. What was there to say? Sorry, especially in Cora's ear meant little more than wasted breath for clemency.

"Stupid slave!" Cora screamed in her ear like a screeching harpy who spied some intruder to her nest. Fury mutated her features into a sharp cut through the pale beauty of her skin. Her almond eyes blazed with an unknown wrath Belle hardly ever fathomed before. "Clumsy little idiot!" She kicked a lone shard nearest to her feet at the girl. "Look what you've done. Not only have you broken everything but you've sullied your master's clothes." Pointing a spell worn finger at the flinching girl, the witch turned to her lover. "Rumpel punish her."

At the command the Dark One froze in place. His boots seemed to take root in the cold stone as her word slithered about his brain. His wiry body stilled upon the harsh words that fled from Cora's mouth. Of course he had intercepted pain from the beauty but he had never been asked to dole out torment.

Like a barbed lance to her soul, the beauty flinched visibly as the words struck home to her brave heart. Hurt and wariness rushed over her in a wave that swept her out to the perilous sea of despair.

He had no way out of such a command, not when things had gone so wrong. There no excuses, no places to send her, no corner to dust to hide her from Cora's blistering wrath bursting from her maw like poisonous lava.

Tenuously, the beauty arched her head up. Her body quivered with the motion, but she dared not turn away. Part of her begged to see what he did, too curios to turn away and brace for pain.

As her azure eyes found his bottomless pits, she paused. Not a hint of disgust etched his face only concern. He seemed as wary as she.

"Rumpel. Punish her." Cora snarled through gritted teeth. Her cunning eyes searched the fiend with a veiled look of confusion.

What was taking him so long? Why had he not sent shoots of pain through the girl for her blundering?

Swallowing hard the Dark One stared down upon the helpless Belle. Truly, she had no means of escape, no words she could say, nothing. His scaled fist curled at his side but he made no move. Not even with the darkness screaming at him and clawing at his weak heart would he obey.

To strike Belle? No. Never.

"Rumpel…." The witch's voice nagged insistently in his ear, her timbre like the incessant cawing of her pet crow.

"No." The word mumbled from his thinly pried lips.

No, and that was what his answer would stay.

Surprise laced the wicked face of the witch like a thin cloud over her pale features. Her eyes narrowed into twin slits akin to viper's orbs upon prey. "No?" Her voice flared disapproving challenge. How dare he say no to her? How dare he defy her words and what she demanded.

"Come now Cora." He turned to her to reason temperately. He proffered a hand to the silver gilded upturned tray at his feet. "She spilled the tray on accident. There was no malice."

Part of him didn't even believe Belle possessed a hint of vileness. Whenever they found themselves alone, she was always tender and kind. For all her years not an ounce of evil had taken thrall over her soul.

"Accident?" The word huffed ludicrously from her blood red lips wrench in a dire frowning sneer. "I've seen you turn men into flies for merely bumping into you. What do you care if her spilling things, like some clumsy, drunken lout was on purpose or not?"

Before he could parry, a sound crashed from the bottom of the stairs. The hollow sound shot through the tower in a muffled crack that echoed about the walls. On instinct both Dark One and witch jerked their heads to the door.

Even Belle, mired in the throes of fright identified the sound. Though the strange noise was nothing she had ever heard before her mind came to only one conclusion. Someone else was in the castle.

"We've a guest it seems." Cora muttered lowly, her lips a crimson line upon her painted pale face. Her head swiveled back to the mystical fiend, her almond eyes still with circumspect fury dancing in her treacherous orbits. "We'll deal with this later." She promised in a dangerous hiss, her lips skewed with wrath.

Grasping her black gown in fistfuls, the witch descended like some dark banshee down the depths of the stairs to combat their uninvited visitor. Her presence, like a shadow, lightened the room as she departed leaving a shaking Belle and a determined Dark One alone.

A vile curse aimed at himself fled from Rumpelstiltskin lips as she departed in a flutter of darkness and wrath. The darkness milling inside whispered his cowardice and weakness for the slave girl.

Cora would want an explanation sooner or later why he refused to harm her servant and he had no way of giving her any. In truth, he had no way of answering himself.

Shaking his straggly, dirty hair, the Dark One shoved the thought into the darker crevices of his ancient heart. He would have to deal with that another time.

Holding out a talon to the beauty, the fiend helped her up from the mess of cracked porcelain and spilled food. Magic hummed in his veins as he called the devious power to his beck. With a wave of his gray-gold claws he beckoned the magic to clean up the mess upon the floor and his clothes. Tendrils of purple fog streamed like searching snakes from his fingers and set everything aright upon the tray. At least, he reasoned for the actions, if he was already in trouble with Cora helping the girl a little more would not be ill. One couldn't start a fire in the middle of an already blazing conflagration.

Before the beauty could speak a word of fate, like a phantom, he stalked off after his angry lover. Perhaps he could have offered a word to the servant girl, but what could he have said to her? He could not even give his own heart an answer, much less the one he had just spared.

Flying down the dark stairs two at a time, the fiend came upon the main hall of Cora's ominous domain. An ugly black rock and fragile ruby glass littered the floor like iced blood, showing the evidence of an intruder. Sun light caught the shards of carnelian in a dazzling display of gold and red upon the gray stone floor.

With Cora at one end of the main hall, the ruby glass divided the intruder who stood upon the other side. The cur was dressed all in forest green and dappled browns about his body. His head was hooded only so far as to veil his eyes. A cocky smile etched his features from beneath the cloaks cowl. A long bow was gripped tightly in his right hand and a quiver of arrows bristled on his back.

"Well, well, what have we here, Cora, my love?" The Dark One queried in a manic chirp as he slowed to stand beside the witch.

An acidic smile weaseled upon the sorceress ruby lips. "I was just asking the same." She perched a plucked brow to the brazen thief. "Who is this that dares enter my castle?"

"Robin Hood's the name." The cloaked thief preformed a cheekily low bow of mockery. "And I'm here to rob you." Plucking up a crystal wand from a nearby pedestal, the thief examined the wand in the light of the broken glass. Slants of crystal and pink magic glittered in the length of the crystal wand, telling the tale of power no mere mortal could dream of wielding.

Cora huffed a nearly amused laugh, her cunning eyes glittering dangerous pleasure like a cat with a new prey to torment. "He's honest at least."

"All truthfulness aside are you sure you want to do this, Dearie?" The Dark One queried slyly. Taking a prancing step forward he flourishing his spell laden fingers through the air. "That wand can do nasty things If you don't know how to use the magic."

The smirking thief shrugged insouciantly, beaming a confident aura. "Pretty sure." Hood pulled out a quail feathered arrow. "Do you know what this arrow can do to you?" He challenged in return to the fiends dark cheer.

Dark One and dark witch looked to one another. Darkness mingled in their entangled thoughts in a union of evil. Their thoughts read the same though they spoke nary a word betwixt them.

Looking back the fiend smiled. "Has to hit me first." He sniggered impishly and padded forward.

As he moved, the thief loosed his shaft. The arrow sang toward the Dark One but not before he summoned magic to cast him free of the arrows point. In an instant he stood next to Cora and in the next, he was vanished.

Even as he did so the arrow changed course, following the trails of magic the fiend left behind.

Insouciantly watching, Cora's eyes trailed the arrow and the magic within. Oh no, this was no ordinary arrow she saw now. Someone had bestowed the arrow with magic, weak magic, but magic nonetheless. With a wave of her hand she could have disintegrated the speeding projectile in a pile of ash, but she stayed her vile power.

In that instant as the fiend disappeared, Belle descend the steps. Walking upon cats shadow she planned to head for her cell to avoid her mistress, but the spectacle in the main hall caught her eye.

She should have made all haste to the nearest hiding place, but something beckoned her to stay. Even with Cora near she could not have left if her heart had wished her to.

Curiosity laced her features as the arrow turned course in the middle of the air. The shafts seemed directed by some invisible hand, changing direction with the magically taken steps of the Dark One.

Within seconds the Dark One appeared on the other side of the room, the arrow in hot pursuit. The shaft whistled a deadly tune, aimed for the target bewitched upon the arrows set course.

Before the Dark One could cast another spell, the missiles struck his heart.

"No!" Belle felt the word shriek from her lips before she even registered the sound was from her tongue. Dread plummeted her heart in the icy swamp of her stomach as the arrow lodged in his chest.

Startled at the shaft caught in his chest, the Dark One stood frozen. The arrow still quivered, punctured upon his skin and deep into his black heart. His mind roiled with thoughts. The thought of the arrow sticking him surprised him less than he knew it should have. He was more focused on the witch standing calmly by the door.

Vapidly, his head turned to her. Why had she not stopped the arrow? She could have easily intercepted such magic once she sensed the arrow possessed power.

Satisfied, the intruder tipped his cowl to Cora petulantly. "My lady." He huffed a laugh. "Don't you just love magic?" Hood smirked cockily as he carelessly stalked passed the struck Dark One. "I know I do."

Magic rippled angrily through the drafty air even as the words left his mouth. Bursts of damson clouds roiled like fog under his feet. Looking up, the scaled features of the Dark One smiled in his face.

"As. Do. I." The fiend jerked the arrow out of his chest. Only a hole in the leather vest remained where the arrow had once been. Giggling sinisterly, the fiend dispatched the arrow in a spurt of magic leaving his gray-gold claws barren. "But don't you know Dearie; all magic comes with a price." His smile widened like a dragon with cornered prey. "And for you, that's me."

Thrusting a scaled hand out, the Dark One grabbed the green garbed thief's throat in his magic laden claws. His pointed black nails dug into the vulnerable flesh of the pale neck like pinching some over ripe fruit. Hot ichor streamed down his black fingertips and stained the thief's cloak as he squeezed just enough to induce pain but not kill.

The hood of the intruder flew back in the gale of black magic, showing his face clearly in the light. A handsome young face met their inspection. His hair was short but of silky brown curls and some form of a beard was growing upon his features. His cocky smile had long departed, filling his umber eyes with terror.

Canting his head to the side, the fiend cackled in manic cheer. "What shall we do with him, Cora?"

"I'm not certain yet, Rumpel." The witch purred as she vapidly stalked up to her lover. Her every step was like a prowling cat, seeing what her mate had caught. Standing close she placed a spell clever hand on her loves shoulder. "But we'll think of something." A venous smile overtook her lips. "Place him the cell next to the slaves. We'll figure out what shall be done about our thief sometime. He's not going anywhere."

Banishing the thief in dark purple smog, the Dark One grinned at his love. If anything could redirect Cora's attention a novel new pain would. Perhaps he was in the clear.

As though reading his thoughts, the witches smile died upon her ghostly face. Now, she had something new thing which to partake her time but that did not mean she would overlook what had previously transpired. "Don't think I've forgotten, Rumpel." Her eyes glanced to the slave girl loitering in the shadows of the threshold before turning back to him. Fury rested in her slit almond orbs, searing away any notion of hope in his heart. "We will speak of _that _later."

Waving her spell clever fingers, the witch disappeared in a cowl of dark shadow; no doubt to plot and arrange the pain that would soon shower down upon their newest prisoner.

A deep sigh of relief fell from the Dark One's lips as his lover departed in a cowl of dark raven feathers. He might not have saved himself a lashing from her tongue or who knew what else, but at least he'd not deal with thing he did not even understand at that moment.

Turning his head to the door, he eyed the enslaved beauty lingering in the dark. Her bright azure eyes seemed to glow even in shadows that chained her so. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he remembered a scream, but he wasn't certain with the pulsing of magic like blood pounding through his ears.

"Are you hurt?" Belle asked cautiously and scuffled out from the ominous shadow like a rat with the cats gone. Concern glinted in her blue orbits, filling his heart with cozy warmth nestled against the uncertainty of the previous moments upstairs.

Instinctively, Rumpelstiltskin rubbed the spot where the arrow had struck. He would be alright, but the wound throbbed. Just because the arrow did not kill did not mean pain was vanquished. "No, no, just a little sore." He quickly relived her wariness.

Abruptly and not of his own volition, a peculiar thought struck his withered heart. Cora had not asked if he was alright. Cora had not even shown concern for his plight. But this girl, the enslaved of his lover did?

Why?

"I know a poultice that can relive the pain." She offered tenderly, her word genuine for his comfort.

Waving his scaled claw, the fiend discarded her concern. "The wound isn't terrible. No need for fuss." On an after thought, he added. "And you should keep to yourself Cora's liable to do anything at present." He warned lowly lest her ear still linger upon the draft.

"I know." Belle worried her bottom lips faintly. Every moment she knew was perilous, but she could not leave him not knowing if he was alright. She couldn't leave him not knowing how grateful his clemency had been. "Thank you." She blurted out, knowing he did not like her words of thanks. Before he could protest she smiled and added. "I'm… I'm glad you're alright."

Just as the words left her mouth a scream tore through the deplorable bowels of the castle. The air rang and shivered with the voice of torture and endless agony. Torment and desperation laced the cry upon the drafty currents swirled through every crack of the abysmal keep.

Belle flinched, her muscles taunt from the shriek. The Dark One merely smiled one more the wicked imp.

"Our guest might beg to differ." He cackled in reply and disappeared in a spurt of purple to join his lover in her vile tortures of their resident thief.


	12. Right and Wrong

Belle's slender figure, hardened with toil, flinched violently as another blood chilling screams pierced the drafty airs of Cora's deplorable citadel. Her calloused hands clenched over the handle to the broom as she held the item to her chest to keep the cleaner from tumbling out of her hands for the forth time that morning. The sound clawed into her ears and her heart and dug into her stoic soul with rending talons that thrashed away heedlessly at her conscience.

Every time without fail she jumped at the sound of the poor soul locked in the belly of the castle desperate shrieks. His screams were dirges that lanced afresh in her heart. Never could she get accustomed to such cries, so filled with blood and pain and wanting of relief.

Never.

For two long, hellish days crawling through the abysmal hours in her mistress' wicked keep, the screams were a mainstay. Night and day, morning and noon, the shrieks resounded through the black stone walls and echoed down the forlorn corridors like ghosts wailing the tale of their last demise to any that would hear.

No one, she knew, no matter what they had done deserved to be tortured so, especially by Cora's vile hands. Torture was wrong, without any narrow alteration to the fact, and yet there she stood with a tormented soul under her feet.

Matters didn't help much that he lay in the stone cell just to her left. At night, even curled up against the other corner of the thick black wall that divided them, she could hear him in the throes of torment. Rusted chains jangled in a chorus of disoriented moans and pleas of impossible aid from blood stained lips. Faint coughs, like bloody wheezing, sputtered from his mouth sometimes, echoing about the chambers and on the odd occasion she heard him heaving up some bile or whatever other fluid that his body still retained.

Her heart ached for her fellow prisoner who shared her hell, but there was nothing she could do to relieve his torment. She'd have a better chance of sprouting wings from her back and soaring over the black walls of Cora's citadel before she ever convinced the witch of any clemency for their prisoner. With her luck if she dared tried such a insane thing she just might have ended up next to the tormented thief if she dared broach anything of the sort to her volatile mistress.

But something had to be done.

Somehow the screams had to stop. Somehow.

Cool, golden dawn light slanted in faint oblique gray rays through the crimson windows of Cora's wicked keep. Streamers of pink and rose wove ribbons through the creamy clouds and the sun barely kissed the tops of the accursed trees spindly, near barren limbs. Summer was fast failing in the realm of Cora and chilly fall was taking hold of the earth.

The days were cooler with every dawn, frost encrusted the earth with glimmering jewels of opaque alabaster, and what leaves did gird the trees were changing to russet and orange and crimson. Frost brought a deeper chill to the castle, but a magical cold, not the bitterness the winters held in the rending teeth of ice.

For Belle, the morning would have been a rare delight with the early task of sweeping the main hall and letting the sunlight warm her skin had her mind not been cast upon the tormented thief. Her tactile thoughts swarmed about the unfortunate prisoner as she set things aright in the main hall. Hands working automatically to her back and forth task, she tried to work out some aid.

Perhaps she could sneak him some bread and water, or perhaps make some poultice to rub on his skin to keep his wounds from infection. There had to be something she could do to ease his suffering if even for a few moments. In five years there had been no one to alleviate an inkling of her misery until… him.

Would she condone the same simply because of her mistress wrath? Certainly she did not wish to rouse Cora's fury, but could she go on trying to block out the screams until the sweet kiss of death plucked him from his torturers?

"Good morning Belle." The Dark One greeted almost pleasantly as he slid into the main hall like a fast fading, mischievous shadow slipping through the chamber. A small, almost puerile smile tilted his gray lips as he appeared in the grayish light. His black depths practically glowed in their sockets as he stared at her humble beauty in the dawn blush. Even catching a glimpse of her in the light made his heart leap errant in his husk of a chest.

He looked as he did many a morning, his black and brown clothes of leather and twill tightly formed about his skinny figure. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him save for a bloody apron garbed over his flamboyant vest and breeches.

Streaks of gorge rising gore stained the leather butchers wear in vibrant splotches that spattered the entire gray fabric. Copious amount of ichor swathed the leather, holding testament that Cora was not the only one who enjoyed the torment of their guest. Truly with the apron about his body he seemed the frightening monster whispered through all the realms.

Averting her sapphire gaze from the barbarous sight, the beauty turned her head back down to her simple task. Her eyes focused on the pile of dust gathering at the end of the tawny broom stalks. Wary disgust marbled her lovely features, but she hid them behind the thick curtain of her umber tresses.

Feigning concentration of her chore she tried to sound cheerful. "Good morning Rumpelstiltskin."

"I have a surprise for you." The fiend grinned widely, stalking forward excitedly to the woman he'd gotten to know for a few months. A brief tinge of something amiss snaked in his dark heart, but he ignored the bite upon his calloused soul. "I and Cora are departing for a while very soon."

Flourishing his wiry talons, he called magic in his blood to heed his command. A purple cloud veiled his fingers for a brief moment before fading away in a swirl of paled haze.

A book sat in his blooded grip ready and waiting for her perusal. The cover was dark brown tanned leather and felt like bovine hide. Impressively thick and bound by an expert hand, the book looked like some sort of delicately balancing upon his black nailed fingertips all for her.

"Here." The magical monster held the tome out to her in a gentlemanly like fashion. "I thought you could skim through the pages whilst I and Cora were gone." A secretive smile graced his scaled visage.

After their last discussion he found himself eager to drop a gift here and there to her. Seeing her face alight with delight made his black blood pound through his veins and his lips to twitch into a grin that would not depart for hours upon his scaled visage.

Slowly taking the book from his hand, the beauty managed a ghost of a smile. "Thank you." She replied hollowly and clutched the book to her chest. To be sure she was more grateful than he could ever possibly imagine, for is kindness but the gift seemed sullied with the sight of him bedecked in the apron of mutilated gore all about his person.

He seemed like two people, the one who enjoyed to talk with her and aid every so often in her plight of eternal slavery and the one Cora adored in her malice.

A shiver spiraled up Belle's spine to see the two face crushed into one visage. Seeing the cruel and the kind together in entwined coalesced unity was not a pleasant sight to her eyes.

Strafing her cobalt orbits down the enslaved beauty could into help but stare at his scaled hands. The same talons that doled out kindness to her also coaxed out pain from the prisoner with magic and brute force. Dried blood rested under the black nails and the pads of his fingers were swathed in gore. How could the kind man and the cruel be one and the same?

As though sensing her thoughts, the Dark One's smile fell. His lips molded into a pencil thin line. Confusion doused with alarm glazed over his sable depths with a faint hint of alarm. "You don't like it?" He queried lowly, his voice troubled.

Did he not know her enough to choose a book she might enjoy?

"No, not that. Never that." Belle tossed her head fiercely. Taking the gifted tome, she clutched the treasured book close to her troubled heart. "It's just…." The beauty paused and worried her bottom lip, her heart torn to the root.

Should he really know what guttered so brightly in her heart, what fire he would find if she opened the furnace and let the shadow of the slave girl fade into nothingness? Would he grow cross with her?

"Yes?" The Dark One prodded the silent words on tip of her tongue to life, his concern genuine. If there was something amiss he, though his black heart berated him, would do everything in his power to correct what was wrong. If there was anything now he detested in his life, he loathed seeing her unhappy in any way he could fix.

Belle swallowed hard, caught betwixt fear and courage vying for dominance. Wariness flagged her courage into a tiny ember through the darkness, but she refused to stop. "It's the prisoner." She admitted warily, her eyes cast away from him to the dark broom handle in her grip.

"What about the prisoner?" The fiend's low voice became cool as the mountain peaks near his home. He perched a curious brow. "If the noise bothers you at night I shall speak to Cora about moving him elsewhere."

Tossing her amber honey hair, the beauty forced herself to look in his bottomless onyx eyes. They had reached some point in there… whatever they had. Surely she could face him and not be afraid of what would follow.

Still, her heart fluttered like a wary deer tremulously in her chest. Though he was kind to her, he still was the Dark One, and that no matter how much his kindness, that could not, would not be foolishly overlooked by either of them.

Taking a deep breath, the beauty brought her courage back to a bright flame in the murky darkness of fear. Her terror receded in front of him, showering her soul with her eternal bravery. "No one deserves to be tortured." She exhaled shakily, the words finally out. "I would much rather you spoke to the mistress about setting him free."

"Out of the question." The Dark One huffed lightly. A frown pulled at his thin gray lips even at the thought. Never mind if Cora would have wanted to set him free, though the thought never crossed her mind, he still wanted to peel the skin from the man who dared, foolishly shoot him. This was one thing where Cora and he were in the cruelest of accords.

"It's wrong." The brave beauty explained flatly, her words firm and resolute from her quivering heart pattering in terror. There was nothing he could say to justifying torture of any sort.

The fiend's eyes narrowed into black slits. "That's not for _you _to decide." He bit back tartly. "Perhaps you've forgotten your place here." Rolling his sable eyes his mouth curved grimly towards the beauty. "Forget about the prisoner. He is none of your concern."

Turning about the Dark One unloosed the long gray strings to the apron. Anger, ignited by the ember of her staunch sense of justice flickered rampantly in his beastly heart. Her spark set off his own fire but not for clemency. How dare she ask him something like that, for some… prisoner. Perhaps she saw him as some sort of hero in need of aid, or perhaps she wanted him to be free with the knowledge he had landed a hit upon the monster of nightmares.

All but tearing off the faded gray apron from his body, the fiend flung the gory mess upon the oaken table. Fresh blood stained the table like ruby claw marks scored upon the wood umber polished. The straps dandled off the edge like morbid streams and fluttered when he stomped passed the edge of the table towards the door leading to the vestibule.

Surly, the beast growled to the enslaved beauty without looking back to her. "Have that clean when I get back." The malicious fiend spat, trying to end the matter.

Fire filled Belle's brave heart as he ordered her about so coldly like her mistress. Though she should have been cowed, or at least dampened by his frigid refusal and his blistering anger running rampant through his dark heart, she felt her courage rise to peaks they hadn't reached in five years. If anything his stubbornness brought out more of the woman locked away since her slavery.

"All this because he tried to steal a magic wand?" Belle challenged in the face of his already foaming fury.

Inside her heart slammed wildly against her chest for refusing to let the matter lie. Never had she tried to broach such important matters to him. They had always been subtle things or little inane talks they both cherished, not the dealing of prisoners or plots for their vile will and machinations.

The Dark One angrily stabbed a black nailed thumb at his scrawny flamboyantly garbed chest. "No, because he shot me in the heart and tried to steal from my lover. I allow no one anywhere close to my person much less an arrow meant to end my life."

"I neared you the other day. I sullied your clothes in spilled food." Countered the brave beauty, facing the danger of is ire. "Cora even told you to punish me and you refused to lift your hand."

Pausing for a moment, the Dark One started thoughtfully at the bright, enslaved woman who dared argue with him. Even free peoples did not squabble with the Dark One, much less people with no power or important positions.

Waters of her infallible courage sluiced forth and doused part of his anger flickering wildly through his dark heart. His wrath departed in hissing steam from the inferno of his raging soul to be replaced with a pulsing heart that beat only for her in the most peculiar of ways. He always liked when he saw past the servant to the fearless woman beneath. There was something so utterly free about the fiery Belle, something made him wish to smile no matter the argument.

Frowning hard, the Dark One waved the matter off. "That was different." The fiend snipped back crisply. "You didn't try to kill me." Flourishing his hand in his usually impish bravado, he stared back at her defiantly. "Try that and you get skinned alive, everyone knows that!"

"No, actually, they don't." Belle informed the grandiose monster stonily, her eyes marbled glaciers. True, barbarous legends had once circulated about him, but no one had ever mentioned finding anyone skinned alive.

At her words, the fiend felt his wall of showy, impish delight crack. How could she tear down his bravado so fast, he contemplated uncertainly in the face of her severity. Already he could feel his vile humor evaporating under her un-amused frown and the chill of her cobalt depths as cold as a winter sky.

Gathering up the remnants of his surety, the Dark One snickered. "Well they will after they discover the body." The beast chirped and turned away to hide his features from her perceptive perusal. No matter what mask he donned upon his visage, she could some how always see beneath to the true emotion lurking under his ugly gray-gold flesh.

As he departed, Belle felt the thrill of magic hum through the forlorn castle like a chill. The aura of magic that permeated the castle when they were there fled from the thick walls and dark halls like mist shredded by the sun. The magic was hard to tell when both had gone, but she was measurably certain they had both departed.

Leaning the knobby broom on a corner the beauty stared at the last place the Dark One had habited. Despite what he said and how he brushed off her words torture was never justified and never would be.

Courage and rebellions burst in dazzling array in her heart with the fire of their small tussle. Her jaw tightened stoically and work calloused hands balled into twin fists by her sides.

Even in the face of the two most powerful sorceresses in the realms she could not let their atrocities go unanswered. What type of person would she be if she were to let the thief languish in the agonizing limbo of death and torture? Had she not always wanted to be brave, to be a hero?

No, she had to do something.

Forcing her fear away from the forefront of her mind, the beauty raced through the dark halls of the dreadful castle. Though fear thrilled through her veins and squeezed her heart, she knew what she had to do. For five years her courage had hidden beneath the insipid husk of a slave girl. Now, however, that woman adumbrated in the shadows could at least aid another less fortunate that she.

Oh yes, she was going to do something.

~8~8~

This really was a terrible predicament.

The dire thought dangled in the swampy marshes of blood and pulsing agony in Robin Hoods mind as he hung like a butchered cows carcass in the cold dungeon. Rusted black chains, hanging from a hook on the ceiling, dug fiercely into the chaffed skin of his bloodied wrists. His hands and arms hung numb over his head giving him no leave to protect himself from whatever his vile tormenters assailed upon him. The thief's brown booted feet barely scraped the stone floor, leaving him in the agony of standing on tip toe or risk his wrists or arms being dislocated from their already stiff sockets.

His cloak of dappled green and umber was long gone leaving him in a ragged undershirt and his breeches and boots. Crusted blood, old and new, stained his body and the clothes they had left on him in his sessions of torture. The streaks of crimson soiled his garments in long, disgusting lines that told the tale of his abject torment at their hands. His lips, crusted with the burgundy of his ichor were cracked and thin and his throat hoarse from screams they coaxed from his pained body.

Yes, he supposed inwardly with a sliver of his humor still intact, at present he truly was in a less than pleasant predicament.

Head down, the mutilated thief hummed a bucolic tune through his cracked mouth. The eerie sound of one awaiting pain and death echoed about the thick stoned room back at him in mocking cheer.

How he was going to get out of the prison alive was a mystery that gnawed at his heart, but he still held a faint glimmer in his blacked out heart. Fate had always shined upon him, and he held all faith the wheel of good fortune would spin his way again.

Abruptly, the door vapidly creaked open to his prison. A slant of bright orange light stole though the darkness and crafted a shadow upon the back wall he was turned to.

Peering at the shadow that formed upon the wall, the thief's bloody features crinkled with confusion. The form was not of the witch or her beastly companion. This figure was like some ephemeral being floated inside.

Flinching despite himself, Hood managed a half cocky grin and feigned being none the wiser. "Back already? I thought you had run out of vile implement to rend against my skin."

"I'm not here to harm you." Belle assured the thief as she hurriedly walked in front of his vision.

Turning his eyes up for the first time in two days, the thief espied the beautiful servant. Tenderness and concern danced in her stunningly blue eyes for him. Her maple hair was bound back and she looked as though she'd seen too many days of hard toil. In her hands, a wooden beaker sat in her gripped, filled with glorious water.

Blinking in disbelief, the archer stared upon the beauty come with a gift from heaven above. Had he not had his own love he might have been smitten by her.

Was she a mirage? Was she the angel he saw before his death?

Blinking beads of stinging sweat from his eyes, the thief stared at her. "Who are you?" The words came out in a raspy croak.

"A friend." Belle exchanged bravely. Putting the wooden rim up to his lips she tipped the cup to his cracked mouth. "Here, drink this."

Needing no second bidding, Hood gulped down the liquid greedily. Streams of cool water dribbled down the sides of his mouth, and kissed his itchy, blood swathed skin as he quaffed down what he could.

After the cup was empty, he breathed in deep. Never had he tasted such a fine drink and never was the drink served by a more beautiful face. "Thank you, milady for your kindness."

"No time for thanks." Belle raced over to the pin holding the chains to the swinging hook on the ceiling. Jerking the thick iron pin out, the beauty stood back. The black chains made a crinkling, whirling sound as they released their burden from the painful limbo of tiptoe.

"No one deserves to be tortured. It's inhumane." She growled out determinedly as the chains reeled out their cargo.

With a thump, the thief fell in a hard heap of blood and agony to the cold stony ground. Pain erupted in his tormented body, but that was nothing compared to the high elation of freedom. Adrenaline and glee swept through his heart, transforming his pain to nervous energy.

His feet, weary, refused at first to support his weight as he desperately tried to rise. Growling out in defiance, the thief rose and shook of the chains coiled about his hands. His body lurched as he stumbled about like some drunkard, but he refused to fall.

Shaking his head, Robin hugged the threshold for support as his legs became accustomed to walking again. "Well, they may beg to differ." He breathed out raggedly in reply to his savior. "And while my life may be saved here, yours is surely in peril. I fear they will turn there wrath on you." He held out a swollen hand. "Unless… unless you come with me."

Belle paused at the kind offer, her eyes locked upon his hand. A freezing spell from Cora could not have stilled her more than his words. Free from the cold castle, from her hellish life, from her eternal fate? Oh yes the thought was very tempting indeed. Taking his hand could open a multitude of windows.

Still, she shook her head. "I can't. I've made a deal to stay here so that my home could survive. I might leave unscathed, but my homeland would surely perish."

"You're a brave woman then." Hood averted his eyes from the enslaved beauty in pity. For the woman who had just saved his life, he would have loved to free her in turn, but determination glittered in her eyes. She made the choice to stay and if she so willed to remain he would not tempt her further. "You have my luck." He offered kindly. His fingers, curled over the coarse stone to keep himself up, loosened as strength endowed his legs again.

Terror filled the beauty's heart with his words, but shook the trepidation away. Bravery forced a smile upon her lovely face as she nodded. "Thank you. Now go. I do not know when they shall return. Don't let my actions be for nothing."

Standing in the dark cell, as the thief Robin Hood made his escape, the beauty let her back hit the cold, porous wall of the black cell. Dull footsteps rang softer and softer as he climbed the stairs with all haste. Soon he would reach the main hall and then find his way to sweet freedom through the accursed forest and back they way he had come through the haunted fens and monster laden paths.

And she… she would be left to face Cora's blazing wrath.


	13. Gone!

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing lovelies! Also, last night: mother of plot twist…. Who else did not see that coming?_

**~8~8~**

"Did you enjoy the book, Belle?" The Dark One inquired happily as he arrived back in the main hall enveloped in a womb of magic. Ominous thunder heads of dark purple roiled and swarmed through the room as he appeared in a wicked bloom of his sinister magic's.

Magic crackled off his gray-gold flesh like lightening in a gale as he stepped free from the chariot of magic that ferried him to and fro. A bulging gray bundle made of navy blue seal skin and wrapped with white twine rested in his right hand as he stepped unto the plush carpet of the main hall.

Tossing the hefty package carelessly upon the oaken table, the fiend slowly pulled the twine that bound the package together with his pinch talons. Sonorous jangling of iron upon iron rattled luridly through the draft laden air as the bundle became undone.

A sinister smile curled upon his scaled visage whilst his sable eyes stared down at the unloosed burden. Before him laid a few dastardly treasures he had no means to use in many a day.

Vile implements crafted for a torturers art sat displayed upon the table from the bulging package. Rusted, curved tools that looked like hooks, cast iron pincers, molded brands, blood crusted thumb severs, eye gouges still laced with gore, cat o nine tail entwined with razors, and other tools from a bygone age crafted only for the means of pain and agony spread from the sinister package like some morbid gift given from thoughtful demons.

Spiked teeth, nails, iron balls meant to snap bone were all Cora truly had in her repertoire of torture devices. She had always preferred her magic to cause blistering agony and not stain her skin with the workings of pain. Her store of torments had been sorely lacking, but with the package plucked up from his dusty Dark Castle, other tools now awaited for tortuous delight upon the foolish thief hanging in the cell.

Picking out a jagged tooth saw from his abhorrent collection, the fiend casually inspected the tool as though the torturing implement were some fine bibelot. Golden light from the windows glinted from the well kept teeth of the surgeons saw, but stopped at the long ago dried blood eternally encrusted on the blade. After gathering the tools from his dreaded citadel and finding a few trinkets to please Cora and sooth the ire lurking just beneath her lovely flesh, he was in a much finer mood than when he had departed.

"I'll try not to be too loud." He wielded the frightening many teethed tool expertly in his scaled grip. "I can't promise the same courtesy from our prisoner." A chuckle at his own clever, morbid joke escaped his lips.

Carelessly waving his hand the malicious imp smiled. "Cora won't be along for a while so you may read more if you like."

Nodding tremulously the enslaved beauty sat down nervously upon a gold hued divan nestled in the main hall. For once in a long time she was glad for her tattered dress of gold, for the ragged folds kept the sight of her shaking knees from showing.

Her calloused fingers fumbled nervously for the book, she'd placed under a pillow, which he had so graciously given her before departing on his tasks with his vile lover. In her mind she could not help but think the tome to be his last act of kindness towards her. Surely he would not be pleased with finding their prisoner bereft of his cell and that he had not escaped on his own wits and sly merits. Oh no, he would be furious to learn there had been a helper in his emancipation, and she was that rescuer.

Taking her silence and the book in her hands as a good sign, the Dark One retied his gray butcher's apron about his sinewy figure. At least she hadn't brought up the prisoner again, he conceded happily in his ancient mind. Perhaps she finally succumbed to leaving well enough alone and worrying about herself and her plight instead of others she need not concern herself.

Humming a pleasant tune, his spirits buoyed by the pleasant change, the magical monster stalked down the stairs. Scaled talons twirling the saw lazily in his grip, the Dark One descended the dreaded halls and the black stairwell leading into the maw of the personal hellish pit Cora had constructed for those who opposed her.

An impish grin stole upon his lips as he neared the door of their unfortunate guest. Belle had a bit of freedom, his lover was busy, happily working on her plots and gathering magic's, and there was a prisoner to make beg for the sweet kiss of death to steal the breath from his lunges. Chuckling vilely at the good and evil thoughts swarming together as one about his black heart, the Dark One pushed open the door, his heart light. Today was turning out to be a rather pleasant day after all….

Though the dungeons rested in the dark belly of the sordid keep, sound traveled amazing well upon the drafty winds floating amidst the dread corridors and the gilt rooms that pockmarked Cora's vast citadel. Even a loud enough moan of agony could carry through the castle, filling every niche with the deathly wail.

To Belle, there was no doubt in her mind she was about to hear something. Even if sound was mute upon the gray stone, she held no inkling of dubiousness in her heart there was going to be noise. In no way would the Dark One appreciate his prisoner spirited away after he'd so painstaking gathered such tools for the thief's demise.

Gathering the courage to her stalwart heart, Belle stared hard upon the letters in the tome the Dark One had given her. The words so neatly scrawled page by yellowed paged looked akin to a foreign tongue as her cobalt eyes ran the lines. In her head, the letters went only to her vision and stopped. She didn't even have an inkling of a clue what the book was about.

How could she enjoy such a treat with what was about to transpire?

As she numbly glanced over the pages, her mind followed the route to the cells. In five years she had learned every step, every movement to the cages in the black belly of the keep. He would be near the last stairs; she ran the course along in her mind. Stalking through a small corridor he would arrive at the door. He would pause for a moment for keys or magic to unlock the door, she noted. After that he would open the portal and….

"Belle!" The beast barked furiously from the foul bowels of the keep.

A shivered trailed Belle's spine at his voice roared from the hellish depths of the castles. His voice seemed like the cry of a raging dragon newly awakened by some foolish knight from a deep slumber.

Though she had been expecting something of that nature, her body involuntarily flinched in a spasm of dire terror. The beauty's heart back flipped crazily in her chest with the angry tone carrying her moniker.

Wariness cowled her lovely face behind the tomes brown hide as she kept staring at the indecipherable words inscripted upon the fresh pages. Oh yes, she was in titanic trouble for what she'd done.

Breathing deep, Belle tried to sooth her quivering nerves. There was no going back now, and she wouldn't even if she could. The die was cast and whatever came after just had to happen.

"Where is he?" Rumpelstiltskin grounded out through his clenched black and yellowed teeth as he appeared like a rampant dragon in the main hall of his lover's manse. His boots stomped in some thunderous crescendo about the echoing stone walls as he neared the enslaved beauty.

Though she had tried to calm herself, the action was in vain. Horror froze her blood in her veins as he loomed over her like some gray-gold tower of death. His sable depths glinted unknown fury and his fists clenched in vices at his sides.

Part of her wished to play dumb, but they both knew that would avail her nothing in the long run. All acting oblivious would do was make him angrier.

Swallowing her terror in a boulder down her throat, the beauty serenely placed the gifted book on her lap. "Gone." She stated simply, her voice calm and steady. Blue depths looked up bravely into his jet black dots, showing not a hint of fabulist falsehood to her words. "I set him free."

"What?" The fiend's scaled brow crinkled into thin lines disbelief. His sable orbs stared at her for a moment as though her words were spoken in a foreign tongue his brain could not comprehend.

Let him free…?

Belle's chin jutted high, her crystal blue eyes filled with righteous defiance to his kindling wrath. "I couldn't just sit here and let you torture someone."

"He was a thief!" The magical monster bellowed in her face, his eyes glaring with pernicious murder.

Anger roared in a conflagration in his oily soul, his rage a tempest that could not be contained. How dare she do something so foolish.

Before she could stab out with her reasons he scoffed at her. A dangerous snarl wrenched his thin lips. "Oh but let me guess, you think he's a hero for stealing from the cruel witch and trying to slay the beast. You read too many books!" Summoning magic to his bidding, he slashed his talons thought the air as though cutting through intangible skin.

Immediately a purple cloud enveloped his gift from her work calloused hands. Strands of purple turned into a thick smog, taking the gifted tome away page by yellowed page from her lap.

There, the fiend felt an inch of dark satisfaction. He had lost something enjoyable and now she had as well. Taking the book was puerile in the face of his anger, but he wanted to lash out at something, and her rare moment of pleasure seemed the only available target to harm.

Looking down, Belle felt her heart sink with the slight weight of the tome banished. Fear swirled through her brave heart but she disbanded any feeling of regret for what she had done. A person was more important than books.

"There." The fiend spat down, his words blistering of acrid bile. "Perhaps that will stop filling your head with poisonous thoughts.!"

"I didn't free him from what I read." Belle protested firmly, her words strong as she faced the raging beast eye to eye. Courage against his barbarous roaring overtook the ample fear that bound cords of terror about her heart. "I saw good in him. That man only wanted to escape with his life."

A hallow scoff fell from the beasts lips, his eyes cool obsidian at her. Nothing was ever that clear cut, even from someone being tormented. "Is that what you thought?" Dark mocking laced his words. "Our thief escaped with more than his life." Backing up, he proffered his hand to the pedestal the wand had once rested.

Almost hypnotized, Belle could not help but followed his scaled claws. He was like some wicked salesmen drawing her gaze to some anathema. In slow horror her cobalt eyes rested upon the barren holder.

Where the crystal wand had been was nothing more than air. The entire reason the prisoner had been locked away was gone from the perch, spirited away by a bloodied but undaunted thief.

Despair plunged her heart in the tundra of her frosty stomach as she stared forlornly at the emptiness. Confidence fell like extinguished fire from her lovely features. Oh no, that was not good.

"You were tricked." The Dark One hissed angrily, his timbre low and cutting into her heart. "You foolish, gullible girl!"

How could someone so bright have been so foolish, the Dark One questioned in his ancient mind. Did she not give one spare thought of the tormenting consequences for letting him go? Did she not think of Cora? Was some malice in the slave girl so great she was willing to brave her mistress' wrath all to know she lost a wand she would never have again?

Vapidly rising from the plush divan, the beauty stared in blank horror at the bereft stand. Thoughts and explanations swarmed her mind in a whirlwind of scenarios that would explain the disappearance. Perhaps Cora had moved the wand and he didn't know. Perhaps… perhaps….

Betrayal and cheated bile swam heatedly through boiling lava in her stoic heart. No matter what excuses she doled to her heart, she knew the truth of the matter. The thief, after her clemency and courage to face her mistress blistering rage, had stolen his quarry all the same.

Staring at the barren perch a sprig of hate slashed a dark swath across her bright heart. After what she had done, how could he have stolen the wand? How could he have doused her into more trouble?

"We don't know why he needed that wand." Belle countered insipidly, her voice holding an inch of quaking. Despite Hood's thievery, part of her knew there was some dire importance to the wand. No one would have braved such a journey into Cora's castle for mere selfish means.

Angrily turning, the fiend muttered a stinging black profanity to the drafty air. "He took the wand because he wanted magic." Frustrated, he tossed the rusted saw back to the table. The tool clattered against its tortuous brothers and slid away as the Dark One neared the table once more. "People who want magic never have good intentions. Never!"

"That's not true." Belle took a brazen step forward. Even with his shield of anger up, she dared face him, trying to break through his carapace. Choking back a stew of courage, fear, tenderness, and betray all bubbling inside her heart, she neared close. "You can't know what's in a person's heart until you truly know them."

"What _are _you babbling about to your master, slave?" Cora queried curiously as she appeared in the main hall.

Like a vile shadow oozing over the room, the witch entered into her terrible home; a ghost returning to a mausoleum. Nightmarish black feathers fell and evaporated like burst of breathing mist into the floor that fell apart as she strode fully into the ostentation chamber. Slowly the darkness peeled away revealing her in all her cruel beauty.

A dark blue dress donned her form as though she had been to some gathering or other. Her hair was pinned up and a velvet cloak of blue lightly trailed the floor behind her every step.

A curious glint danced in her almond orbs a she flashed a stare from the Dark One to the enslaved beauty. She's only a moment to catch a snatch of their conversation, but she couldn't place what any of the words meant.

A brow perch she focused her attention on the magical monster. By the look in his midnight eyes he was less than happy. "Something amiss Rumpel, dear?"

Breath caught in a chilled vice in Belle's throat at the sudden inquiry. All that would be need was one word of her treachery and most likely Cora would put her in place of the prisoner that had once dangled in the cell awaiting torment.

Goosebumps involuntarily rose on the beauty's peach toned skin as the witch cast her glance on her. Her skin itched under the gaze of her mistress. Already she could feel the implements of the Dark One's collection set to work on her supple flesh for what she had done.

Clawing a hand through his dirty brown hair, the Dark One snarled. The words came out before the darkness lurking inside could argue with them. "Our prisoner escaped and stole your wand."

Immediately shock and anger laced Cora's features. Surprise branded her face giving her an awed reflection. Her cunning eyes studied his as though not comprehending. "What, how?"

"Obviously by some magical means we must have overlooked." The magical monster lied smoothly. "He had the arrows and the bow perhaps he held more magic just in case of some moment to make free."

"And you just let him go?" Cora shrieked luridly into Belle's ear. Fury bubbled from her lips like rabid froth coating her ruby mouth. There was no way she couldn't have heard the prisoner escape, much less not viewed him take his leave.

Fumbling for words, the beauty fought to grasp what to say to appease her furious mistress. Her mouth moved, but not the smallest sound escaped. The Dark One, surprisingly still had covered her, but that meant little if she could find nary a recourse of explanation.

"You pathetic, little traitorous worm!" The vile harpy screamed maliciously. "You let him waltz right out that door! I know you did, and with my wand!" Magic crackled dangerously about her. "Well, lets see how a few torments work on you then since you're so keen on letting thieves simply pass you by."

"I've a better idea, Cora." The Dark One growled in tandem to his lover's pernicious fury. In no way was his blood sated from his cheated torture, but he still did not wish to view Belle harmed. She had done something foolish, but that did not give leave to rend her flesh from bone. "We will hunt down this cur." He turned his fathomless black orbs to Belle. 'We will see what's in his heart when I shoot and arrow through it! And because I am a showman." The fiend snapped his dexterous talons and summoned the bow of the thief in a spurt of damson magic without hint of pausing. "It will be with his bow, and because this is your fault you get to come and watch and know as the blood oozes from his stuck body, it will be you and your rags to wipe it up!"

Cora clapped her magic laden hands in wicked delight for his inferno of anger. A grin of purest evil pleasure marred her paled visage. This was the Dark One she loved. "An excellent idea, Rumpel!" She crowed. Her snake eyes turned back to the beauty in wicked glee. "And perhaps this shall teach you not to cross your betters." Nodding she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'll prepare the carriage Rumpel. You put affairs in order before we leave to hunt our runaway."

As she disappeared once more, the fiend glowered pernicious murder towards the girl. Anger at himself and her both mingled into one congruent entity of wrath. Of course he was in no way sated of his bursting anger, but even in his rage he shuddered to think of the girl bound and tortured like the thief.

The darkness wished to see her punished in the most tortuous of way, be he denied the evil such delight. For the so called Robin Hood, such things were fine, even welcomed, but for kind, gentle, fire-behind-her-sky-blue-eyes Belle, never.

Pain sluiced her cobalt depths as they found his midnight depths again. Though he had just inexplicably saved her from horrendous torments, he had sentenced her to watch the death of one she had just saved.

Guilt pointed the Dark One's equally as dark soul as he stared into the pain behind the sapphire orbs he adored. That should have been relief, not agony. Did she still feel pity for the prisoner who had plunged her into so much chaos?

"You should feel grateful!" The magical monster hissed in a low, feral growl to the girl. "Cora would have done much worse than this. This is a mercy to you!"

A sea of words lapped upon Belle's tongue and near burst from her swelling heart to the open air to tangle with his anger. He had a very good point, and she was grateful to be at least spared such torments, but at the cost of another's blood, still was not right.

Averting her cobalt eyes, the beauty remained silent, not certain what to say. If she exclaimed her thanks, he might think himself justified in slaughter but if she didn't he might think her ungrateful for lying for her sake to Cora even in his anger. Least of all she didn't want him to think she did not care he had spared her from the vile implements housed in his lover's foul dungeons.

"Ready to depart, Rumpel?" Cora asked almost jovially, reappearing in their midst. The witch practically skipped about as though they were headed to a picnic and not a killing. Her almond eyes glowed cheerfully and her wicked watermelon smile split nearly from ear to ear in unmitigated delight of the suffering at hand.

She was always so joyous to cause pain, of course.

Sable eyes boring into the beauty, the fiend glared daggers at her. His mouth set in a grim line as he stepped back a pace. "Already, Cora." The fiend nodded tersely, his eyes never leaving Belle's.

"Actually, no, almost ready." The vile witch remarked afterwards. Stalking towards the beauty, the sorceress stared in cruel delight to her slave. "We need to take special precaution bringing her along. Who knows she might have planned this. Perhaps she hopes escape in the outdoors from the castle walls. I don't want her to get tempted on a whiff of freedom outside these walls."

Whisking her black gloved hands through the air, the witch brought forth an item once lodged in the belly of her foul dungeons. Clouds of oily black covered whatever Cora held in her hand, leaving Belle's imagination swirling in horror.

Before Belle could move from the unknown thing inside the miasma of darkness, the sinister harpy grasped her hands in her strong, raven like fingers. A click and a jangling of iron echoed through the main hall as the witch clamped down on Belle's wrist. Her carnelian smile was a cruel grin that branded upon the beauty's heart as Cora held her wrists for a moment more to make certain whatever she had done remained.

As the acrid black smoke departed, Belle felt her limbs heavy and metal digging into her skin. Looking down as though viewing some horrid gift, the beauty saw at last what the witch intended. Black iron shackles wrapped in a cruel vice against her skin, restricting her freedom to a few motions.

The iron bracelets dug mercilessly into her flesh, and the black links were scourged with old blood telling of some long ago, unhappy wearer of the shackles before death had cast them off. In the center of the chain binding her wrist one to the other an iron lead dangled in Cora's hands giving her full control of her slave's whereabouts in the outside world.

"There. Just to make certain you don't get any ideas of running away, slave." The dark mistress smiled cruelly and gave the iron lead a tug causing Belle to lurch forward in a jangling of iron. Turning to the Dark One she assented a faint, demure nod. "Now we're ready to hunt down our thief."


	14. What Once was Hidden

Chill wind wisped about all the realms in herald to the full arrival of glorious fall. Autumn was in full reign and every object in nature proclaimed such jubilation. The towering trees painted russet and gold and crimson arrayed the cool world with the splendorous colors of their impending death. Fields were lush and tawny and ripe with harvest. Orchards bowed low with their burdens, ready to be plucked and stored for the bitterest of the winter days.

Busy serfs and peasants toiled in hardy delight to bring in the goods for their lords and barons. A sense of cheer permeated every heart the bright autumn sun touched. Soon there would be feasts and celebrations to take their minds of the hard summers behind and the harsh winters before them. Lead by their kind leaders who wrought peace to all their realms, the year looked to be a fine one indeed.

All certainly seemed bolstered with happiness save for one blot of darkness rolling down a forest path.

Black tack and harness jangled in a jaunty rhythm of leather and steel as the carriage of Cora the cruel lumbered through the forest of Sherwood. The carriage was all forged all of black, like the owners heart and opened wide for light travel. Trimmings of gold embroidered the edges, flaunting affluence from the sable leather. Four black horses plodded with an unmanned coachman through the dirt tracks through fen and forest with only a goad and whip of magic to steer them through the autumnal trails.

Despite the terrible journey to seek someone's blood she was forced to endure, the beauty allowed the brilliant sights of autumn to encase her in surreptitious delight. The smells and the colors enraptured her in awe she held close to her brave heart.

Ever since she made the bargain five long years ago she was locked in Cora's foul home without leave to view the world from outside the gate. Now, even on a route to shed blood she would enjoy the rare privilege of being out in the cool, sunny day.

Head down, her dark amber hair veiling her features, Belle cast only the faintest glances up at the world lest her mistress catch her staring. Her tightly shackled hands sat folded delicately in her lap with Cora holding the lead loosely in her black gloved grip.

Sadness filled the beauty's every pore as she stared at the dark links swaying to and fro with every rumbling of the fine carriage. The chains were more of symbolism than anything else. At all times, the witch wished her to know she was not free and would never be free again.

"We're losing track of him." Cora piped up thoughtfully for the first time in three hours since their journey to revenge had begun. Staring out into the world passing them by in a blur, her astute words were calm and low almost as though the fact bothered her none at all. If she were frustrated the dire emotion never showed to her pallid features.

The ride through the realms had been mostly quiet one, with only the Dark One and his lover exchanging a few spare, conspiratorial words. Silence pervaded their carriage which allowed the massiveness of the fall flared forest engulf them with the awe of autumns reign.

They had been on a straight course for a long time, but even Belle could feel the twists and turns come more often and the uncertain lurch of the possessed stallions. Once in a while the horses pawed to a halt as though to get some bearings before racing off again like hell hounds on the scent of prey.

A grimace forged upon the Dark One's lips at her all too true words. The life force of the thief they followed flickered intermittently with their magical senses. Only magic could track the fool, but even magic had limits.

Heaving his shoulders in a shrug, the beast cast a spare glance out of the side window. The world flew by in a menagerie of vibrant fall hues, but there was nothing his senses could pick up past the errant fox or chattering squirrels heart beat. "This forest is too thick." The Dark One replied in distaste.

"Perhaps… perhaps we should turn around then." Belle broached bravely to the magical fiend.

Since the moment she allowed Hood free, her courage had taken abundant growth that could not be stifled. Her fearlessness that once consumed her bright heart began to devour that cowering maid twisted to life by Cora's cruelty. Little by little the woman kept away for five years was coming forth to the light without a hint of backing away once more.

Anger braced Cora's pallid visage in a pinching vise that narrowed her features. "We were not addressing you slave." She hissed tartly. Before the Dark One could interfere, she gave the girl a stinging slap aside her head. "Keep your tongue behind your teeth unless you want me to rip it out. For what you've done you're lucky I haven't made you run bound behind the carriage."

Mollified by the witches threat and the warning strike, the enslaved woman bobbed her head obediently. Cora could do just that and she had no wish to see her tongue taken along with her freedom.

Secretively casting her eyes to the Dark One, the beauty searched him. A frown of disapproval deeply scored his mouth as he darted his eyes to his lover. His scaled hands gripped at the edge of the carriage as though he stopped himself from some action.

None the wiser of the foul glint in his onyx orbs, the witch shifted slightly in her rattling seat. "I'm afraid we need some information about this place; someone who knows the area." Cora primped her done up raven hair.

Even as the words left her glossy, scarlet lips the whinny of horses filtered through the chill air. Horses hooves clopped luridly upon the stone cold dirt road and rustled the fallen leaves scattered about path.

Lifting a hand, the Dark One brought the carriage to a halt with a mental prompt. The ebony horses brayed and nickered as the carriage lurched to a stop. Snorting an pawing the frightening beasts shook their heads and stilled upon their quest.

Stepping out of the carriage, the magical monster proffered an ugly hand to his lover. With a smile the witch hitch up her flowing dress with one hand and entwined the other gloved appendage with his as he helped her down.

Belle jolted from her seat as her mistress climbed down to the earth. The thought of Cora letting her stretch her legs had not even crossed her mind. Her chains jangled raucously, making her flinch as she awkwardly stumbled about to be free from the confines of the light.

"Well don't dawdle, slave." Cora snapped tritely and gave the lead a cruel tug.

Scampering awkwardly to save herself from falling on her face in the dirt, the beauty did her best to get down on her own.

Surprise laced her lovely features as she saw the Dark One's hand still extended for her to grasp. Though he was angry, what bit of a gentleman there was in him was for his lovers slave as well.

Tremulously taking his hand without a hint of disgust, the beauty stepped down from the black carriage. Cobalt eyes down, she cast a clandestine glance to her mistress. Surely she wouldn't be happy to have her fun ruined.

Bitterness puckered her ruby lips as though she had eaten something explicitly sour. Her almond eyes pinioned upon the fiend who tactfully did not meet her gaze. He too knew precisely what his actions had wrought against her cruelty.

"What do we have here?" A nearly drunken voice slurred from behind their carriage. A trio of horses cantered cautiously near the empty carriage and the travelers upon their murderous quest.

Two of the fellows wore the mail war gear of guardsman whilst the leader wore only leather finery.

The man in the lead of the tri was an oily sort. His brown leather attire, though fine, was rumpled and disheveled upon his form as though he'd slept in them for many a night. A sword, ill kept, dangled by his waste and a bow with a broken string hung limpidly in the horses black saddle.

His dark brown hair was lanky and fell in wet strands about his face as though he'd been caught in some rains. Red rimmed his narrow, blue eyes and scruff of a grown beard raggedly donned his face. His body was like some limp stringy weed, wiry but tough to break.

Sniffing deeply, the cur all but slipped off his mount pawing mount. Almost comically, he tried to look serious as he lumbered forward in almost a military style.

Stepping forward politely, Dark One and dark mistress smiled pleasantly at the lout eyeing them. "Pardon the intrusion, sheriff." Cora spoke for them both, her tone light as though careless. "We come to these woods seeking a thief. He stole something very valuable from me."

"I know of whom you seek." The sheriff nodded and took a stumbling step forward. "The same man who stole my love and ruined me. The same man who made a mockery of me as sheriff."

The witch folded her hands in front of her, a smile tipping her crimson mouth. "Good. That makes this so much easier then. Where is he?"

"While I know who you seek, I also know who you both are." The sheriff informed them almost officiously. "I know your infamous reputation as dealmakers and I wish to strike a bargain of my own."

Looking to her dark lover, the cruel witch eyed him for any disapproval. Seeing none, she turned back to the sheriff, her lips still a wide grin. "And what would that be."

Wiping his nose with the back of his wrist, the sheriff pointed behind them both. "A night with your wench." He demanded flatly.

Belle froze as the price for the information they sought tumbled past his ale stained lips. Terror froze her courageous heart to a perilous standstill that threatened to end her very existence. The blood in her veins was like cold water sluicing through her form. Her hands, gripped tightly together, squeezed in a wringing vice that took the bite of the chains away.

A night with her. That's what he wished, a bed warmer that would not shy away from him. A woman he would not feel the least bit of guilt about if he held down whilst she pleaded for freedom.

Rage swelled like liquid fire in the Dark One at the request. His fingers twitched to dig into the drunks chest and rip his foul heart out and stomp the organ beneath his boot, but he held himself in check. This was Cora's bargain, not his.

"A night." Cora scoffed at the outlandish offer. "I don't have a night for you to lay with her. I want this thief by the time the sun has fallen."

Scratching the back of his lice ridden, oily strands, he shrugged, more than ready to bicker for a good price. "An hour." The sheriff tried to reason sensibly as though he were not bidding for a woman's dignity.

Oblivious to them all, the Dark One's rage grew into an inferno in his chest.

Cora perched a plucked brow with the new suggestion. The offer was better but she wasn't keen on loitering about for an hour behind some shack waiting for him to defile her slave girl.

Lowering his voice, the sheriff leaned in a bit closer outside the hearing range of his men. "Twenty minutes?" Reasoned the drunkard.

"Twenty?" The evil witch mulled the words over thoughtfully. In twenty minutes they could be done their whole business with the thief and be back in time. "Seems fair enough. So long as you tell us where he is first." Jerking the chain that held Belle's wrist, the cruel witch brought the terrified woman to the fore. Careless of the fright and pain marbled upon her slaves features she held out the lead chain like a new prize for the sheriff to take. "After you relate to us the whereabouts of my quarry, you may take her and do as you will. We'll be back to collect her later."

Stumbling forward on numb legs, Belle's chilled heart sank into the roiling lake of her stomach. Her mouth dried into a desert as she watched in silent horror at the foul exchange of flesh.

Had her mistress just whored her? Out of all the cruelties she had lashed upon her slave, this was by far the cruelest.

Before the witch could seal the accord, the Dark One stepped in. A gray-gold hand curled about her upper arm as he dragged the witch back a pace from the lascivious sheriff. "We don't have time for this." Rumpelstiltskin hissed lowly to his lover. His sable eyes studied her carefully, looking for any measure of agreement.

"Of course we do." The vile sorceress scoffed almost pleasantly, her smile a wicked rose grin. "This deal is golden, Rumpel. We slaughter our thief and punish the slave all in the same instance." Her eyes flickered to the terrified girl. "She'll learn never to try and defy me again."

Starring at the pure wickedness of Cora, for the first time in centuries something akin to hate scorched his ardor for her. In her eyes all he could see was endless blackness of loathing he held in her heart.

Though he was furious, the thought of doing something so foul to the girl seemed an atrocity. Never would he have left her in the groping hands of such a brute who would take every advantage of her. Nothing she ever did would ever make him even consider such an action.

A fierce protectiveness he couldn't explain washed over him in a tidal wave of righteous rage. There was no way, the drunkard pig would have her. Not even if the bargain was Cora's deal.

Annoyance traced the witches pale face. "Well what do you suggest?" She inquired icily, ready to hear in better means of getting their information.

Smiling, once more in his element, the fiend stepped back towards the expectant sheriff. Oh he had some ideas to gather their information alright.

Looking from Dark One to frightened beauty, the sheriff grinned evilly at the fiend, oblivious to his sweltering fury. "So do we have a deal then? My information for the girl?"

"How about a new deal." The Dark One chuckled manically. Flicking a scaled hand through the cool air he summoned magic to his expert command. Dark purple tendrils of power fled eagerly from his dexterous talons like serpents unleashed.

The vines of magic slipped down the drunkards throat and wormed through his nose in the worse possible way. A puff of dark vapors scourged the sheriffs features before drifting away on the winds of fall.

In an instant, the sheriff wriggling tongue sat in the beats hand. The pink muscles flicked about like a worm trying to escape his talons.

Hands clasped over his throat the sherries coughed in astonishment. His eyes were as round as full fall moons as he stared at his own tongue twisting and writhing in the fiends black nailed grip.

Holding out the tongue like some prize, the fiend grinned. "New deal!" He trilled in mock happiness. "Tell us where the thief is and you get this back. Do we have a deal?"

Nodding rapidly the sheriff accepted with all haste. Out of everything, he had not expected his own life to be in peril from those of like minds and dark hearts.

Satisfied, the fiend flicked his hand lazily. Another puff of lavender spurted through the air as he returned his tongue.

Gagging for air, the sheriff sucked in the cool autumnal winds. Furious, the corrupted official cast the Dark One a scathing glance. How dare he interfere with his chance for pleasures!

Glaring back at him, Rumpelstiltskin snarled towards the man, his teeth flashing past his thing gray lips. His ebony eyes glittered like brimstone in a fierce protectiveness that told of a ready will to take more than a tongue. If he thought a dirty look would quail the Dark One he was oh so wrong.

Cowed, like any coward the sheriff pointed lamely to the woods. "His camp resides in the forest. He normally lingers about the road to Nottingham. You will find him there."

"Thank you, sheriff." The Dark One chirped just as jovially as before though a hint of danger skirted his falsetto timbre. He waved a hand languidly at the defeated shell of a man. "You may go now."

Without another word, the man retreated back to his guardsmen. With all haste, and without daring to look back, they made their way out, leaving the Dark One and the two women alone.

Anger glittered like diamond in Cora's eyes as the trio departed into a dull pounding of hooves down the trail. Fury sang just beneath her flesh telling of her disapproval. "You ruined a perfectly good deal, Rumpel." She accused viciously, her voice dark with blistered, cheated rage.

The deal was more than good. The deal was excellent. They would have killed two birds with one well placed arrow. Unless, the sudden though shot through her vile mind, unless, he hadn't wanted both birds.

"Have you sunk so low, you'd peddle sex?" The Dark One parried in a succinct snort of disdain. A form of carefully contrasted haughtiness veiled his features as he challenged her. "It was my belief we had not sunk that low than to offer what can be cheaply bought on every street corner in Nottingham. I thought we dealt in gems and magic; the rare and impossible."

Deep red tinted the sorceress' normally ghostly flesh as she stared him eye to eye in their disagreement. The words to refute him sputtered like a spark on wet tinder upon her tongue. In an infuriating way he was right. They were not some normal peddlers and swindlers of the common. Had she forgotten in all the months with the lack of deals, was she too eager to strike a bargain no matter how crass?

But then again, the girl was merely a slave who needed to learn a valuable lesson in crossing her betters. That in turn wrought the question why he had not agreed with the bargain to see her punished.

Abruptly, the same odd feeling she had felt for the longest time came back in a rush that nearly overtook her senses. The feeling was so poignant the aura nearly rattled her bones with pain. Something was truly more amiss than she thought.

"Is that really all, Rumpel?" She inquired lowly, her words questioning, probing for the truth hidden behind his ugly skin.

Keeping his scaled features a strict neutral of insouciance, the Dark One gazed fully into her orbs. "Yes." He lied coolly showing nothing that lay engraved upon in his black heart.

Almond eyes boring into his, the witch stared him down like a lion facing a tiger. Part of her knew not to believe him, but she had no evidence to suggest otherwise. He was always an odd sort. Perhaps the distaste of sinking so low for a mere bargain did truly irk him.

Snorting, her mood for killing spoiled, the witch waved a spell worked hand dismissively. "Fine." She spat and turned away. "I grow tired of this hunt Rumpel. I'm going back home." Haughtily shifting her velvet blue cloak about her slender person, she frowned as she beckoned magic to wing her away. "Make sure you bring the head of the thief back, and make certain the slave watches."

Snapping her fingers, the witch enshrouded her self with raven feathers of magic and disappeared back her dreaded citadel.

As the fragrance of strong ammonia flitted away upon the chilled autumn wind, the fiend dared to breathe again. Cold air burned his lungs as he greedily inhaled life. For a few moments facing her he had not even dared to draw breath, not wishing to give away the uncertainty lingering like dark mists cloying at his heart. One curtain amiss and she would know without a hint of doubt the lies in his soul.

Letting his shoulders slump, the beast allowed relief to rattle through him. That was one more hurdle passed.

"Thank you." Belle voiced breathlessly as she felt the last tingling of Cora's black magic depart. Gratefulness welled in tears in her eyes. Her orbs were blue crystal as she stared at the Dark One. He had spared her from a fate worse than torture, a fate that plucked away the last ounce of dignity she owned to herself.

Turning to her, the malicious fiend snorted. "Not another word about it." He swiveled to the direction of the forest looming the side of the narrow stretch of road. The last thing he need was her thanks or the giddiness in his heart that sprung from her words. "Let's find my thief and be done with this."

After what he's just done, the darkness prowling the recesses of his heart wanted recompense. There had to be some form of payment to dilute the heroism he showed in constantly saving the girl from his lover's evil machinations.

"Surely you can't still think of killing this man." Belle followed him close into the dim, thick forest. The chains about her wrists jangled raucously as she stumbled and scurried about the moss strewn land. Bits of refuse and leaves snagged upon the chain that trailed the ground as she tried her best to follow.

Rolling his black eyes, the Dark One stopped in his tracks. Did she ever stop? Turning about quickly, he grasped Belle's hands in his own before she could come to a quick enough halt.

Holding her hands, for a moment his black heart stilled. His dark nailed talons ghosted tenderly over her skin that housed the bright soul of Belle. For a moment, the fiend could not help but stare at the contact of his skin and his. His scaled talons looked horrendous next to her delicate flesh that had given up freedom for her people.

Ugliness swathed his soul as he studied her skin and his own next to one another. Why did she have to be so beautiful inside and out. At least Cora's dark, ugly soul made him feel as though close to one of his own kind, but Belle… Belle was a ray of light inside and out and he but a foul shadow. Her beauty did not stop at her skin but filled her entire form.

Casting the foolish thought away, the fiend stared down at her tightly shackled wrist, exacerbating her clumsiness. Disapproval narrowed his gray lips into a pencil thin line as he inspected the dark links. The shackles were tight about her wrist adding pain with every jolt.

He had not wished for them upon her, but Cora was adamant. If something occurred with a rouge wand, the last thing she wished was for her servant to make an escape.

"I can't stand these." The fiend spat hatefully towards the iron links. "You've no need to be bound and the sound will do nothing to make our coming easily heard." Slowly running his talons over the links, the fiend summoned his magic to do his bidding.

One by one the iron transformed into lavender fog that drifted upon the wind leaving her hands free. The chains would be in Cora's residence one more but if she did not check then she wouldn't know.

Shock laced Belle's features as she stared at her free hands lightened from their cruel weight. Gray and blue bruises dappled the skin where the iron bracelets once bit into her flesh but that was the extent of the injury.

"Rumpelstiltskin." The beauty found his sable eyes.

Why was he so kind to her?

Quickly turning from her, the beast stomped off through the dying greenery once more. "No." He snapped back, his voice a dangerous growl. "No thank you, not gravitated. _Nothing_.

"But Rumpel." Belle followed closely, not to be stymied from the words pounding like blood through her heart. Clinging like a shadow to his sinewy form as they walked, she spoke lowly to the man who seemed to always be at her rescue. "You've shown me that there can be a kind man behind the Dark One. Why not show the same clemency to your thief?"

Annoyance darkly blotted his befouled soul at her brave insistence. Ducking beneath a heavy branch, the fiend clicked his teeth irksomely. "Because he is a thief." He answered simply, hoping in vain to end her words.

Trudging up a knoll littered with oaks and beeches the fiend focused on the task ahead for slaughter.

"And I was the slave who let the thief go." Reaching out her hand, Belle grabbed the Dark One by his twill sleeve. Her toil had made her strong, but she knew perhaps the try in vain to hold him still for a moment.

Leave rustled as the fiends froze where he stood in the glade of tall beeches and oaks. Her touch was like a jolt of magic making his legs numb from knee to ankle. Fronds of magic could not have stopped him so fast like her touch.

By her will or his own, he turned to her. Disbelief filled his black orbs at her willfulness and bravery.

Pleading filled her cobalt eyes as she stared bravely into the Dark One's own pitiless black depths. "Cora sought to punish me in the cruelest of fashions for believing I had simply let him walk away. In less that a day you've lied for me, saved me from torture, spared me the indecency and humiliation of being whored." She held her bruised wrists up. "And even taken away my chains. Can you not find it in your heart to spare one thief?"

Before any words could leave his mouth, leaves rustled at the base of the hill. A low voice muttered something akin to a prayer below them.

Without either viewing the speaker, master and slave knew they had found their thief. The voice was too similar Rumpelstiltskin knew immediately as the sound echoed faintly through the forest. They had found Hood.

Dismissing her case of clemency for the thief, the Dark One swiveled on his heel and crept to the apex of the knoll. His steps were like those of a hunter nearing a skittish grazing deer.

A curse fell from Belle's pink lips as the sound filtering about the trees. She had been close, but fate seemed to have other plans of claiming a thief's life. The time for talking was nearly done.

Carefully following the beauty stood a few steps back from the Dark One but still well enough to view the bottom. Sure enough there thief sat at the base of the hill near a narrower road that snaked through the iris of the forest.

Another patchy green and forest brown cloak donned his weedy figure that squatted in the ditch. A bow, not his original, but certainly a fine piece was strapped behind his back with an array of arrows. An anxious look swathed his face and between his pilfering fingers the wand rested casually in his hands. Slowly twirling the wand, he anxiously looked down both sides of the road.

"He looks like he's waiting for someone." Belle whispered to the Dark One as she crept forward. Part of her wished to scream a warning to the thief for his life, but that would make her master shoot without any more thought to the matter.

Perhaps, there was a little crack left in the door to dissuade his murderous intent.

The beast huffed caustically, sending a plume of chilled gray vapors thought he air. "To a buyer no doubt. Probably nobleman who wants a bit of magic under his belt against foes. You'll see, Belle." His mouth grimaced hatefully. "Your thief is nothing but a scoundrel."

Even as the words left his mouth, noise echoed wildly down the road. The clattering of a ramshackle cart and mules plodding down the narrow lane responded in echoes throughout the entangled forest. The cries of a coachman barked out orders to the beasts of burden as the cart slowed near the thief.

Close to the Dark One so that they were nearly akimbo, the beauty stared down better at the hillside. Inside, her heart flittered with errant trepidation. Was she wrong about the thief? Was he only stealing the wand for a few golden coins?

A relieved smile traced Hood's lips as the cart rattled to a stop next to him. Lying in the base of the rickety wooden cart was a pale, haggard woman. Her raven hair sat in matted tangles and her skin was paler than even Cora's hue. Death lingered about the woman in a fog that threatened to steal her last breath at any spare moment. Even a commoner could tell she was ill unto death.

Hoards of old pillows and tattered blankets heaped the cart to make her warm but her body still shook. Her body was akin to a gaunt shift of muslin lying on the sea of comfort, ready to slip into the afterlife.

Pity filled Belle's stalwart heart for the ill woman. "See." Belle pointed needlessly as the thief jumped unto the cart. "He's using the wand to heal her."

Darkness bit ruthlessly at the beast's heart at the sight of such loving devotion. Part of him was almost moved to compassion. Almost. "He's still a thief." He murmured lowly, his voice filled with murder.

The intentions mattered nothing. A thief he was and a thief he would die.

"Rumpel you…." She took a step forward but was stopped short by the wave of his scaled hand.

Immediately, Belle felt her body amiss. What step she was about to take became locked in place. Refuse of the trees and yearly mulch covered half her figure pinning her to the earth. The ground seemed to swallow half her form into the forest then stop keeping her firmly in place like some sapling.

Pulling as though she could haul herself up, the beauty struggled in the helpless venture to free herself. Her work calloused fingers clutched at the moist, cold ground as she tried to pry and claw herself free from the earth. "Rumpel please… you can't do this."

Deaf to her please, the fiend drew and arrow from the thief's own quiver and touched the enchanted bow. Taking a breath, he pulled at the oiled string and aimed to the man hovering over his sick love.

Oblivious to the archer of death atop the wooded knoll, Hood stroked his loves tangled hair. His lips moved in silent words of love as he doted upon her with hope. Pulling the covers from her form, the thief slowly pried away the blankest.

A swollen belly wreathed in the soft folds of a dress came to light. Her belly was rotund with child as she laid there close to deaths door.

"Look." Belle breath, her struggling stopped. "She pregnant." Her eyes turned to the Dark One ready to let the shafts free. "You are not the type of man to leave a child fatherless."

Was he?

Pain squeezed the Dark One's heart in a vice at the sight of the budding family tenuously in the balance of death. Pregnancies all too often came with complications. The man who had stolen the wand had been desperate to save both, not choose between mother and child.

Was he not the same once upon a time? Had he not risked cowardice to be with his family?

Inside the darkness cursed him a weak fool. That life was over. He was no longer the kind, thoughtful cur of old. But… he was kind to Belle. He could be kind, all he had to do was let the feeling free.

Eyes hard as rock, the fiend loosed the shaft.

Hissing like a serpent ready to strike, the shaft sang trough the air. The tip glinted in the sunlight like a beacon to show death the way.

Belle covered her mouth to hold in a scream as the arrow flew. Tear sparked in her cobalt eyes to see the shaft loosed. How could he have done such a thing? Was she wrong about the Dark One? Had her heart lied?

In an instant the arrow sank deep into the ground beside a cart wheel. The feathers quivered as the shaft caught into the hard earth. Frightened mules keened with the hint of magic eager to be off.

The thief looked up sharply but could see no one. "Someone has found us." He whispered urgently to his love. His sharp brown eyes scanned the ridge of the forest threatening to overtake them. "We should make haste."

Motioning his hand to the driver, the thief scanned the woods. The cart lurched to a roll as the made all haste out of the area, a family.

"What happened?" Belle asked tenuously, her eyes roved in disbelief to the monster.

Ignoring her inquisitiveness, the beast allowed his magic to release the beauty. A sigh fell softly past his lips as he stared at the arrow lodged firmly in the dirt track. Despite the darkness in him, he all but released the thief with his life intact and the wand still in his grasp. Cora would not be pleased in the very least.

Belle gasped as she felt the earth's deep vines release their gripping hold upon her legs. In an instant she felt herself atop the soil she was once plunged in. Trembling forward on wary feet, the beauty neared the aimlessly staring fiend.

Raising a hand he cleared his throat imperiously. "Back to the carriage. I'm bored of this forest."

"What happened?" Her insistence fell upon his ears once more.

A grimace slashed his gray-gold features. "I missed." He lowered the bow slowly as though he couldn't believe the thief was not dead and bleeding on the hard dirt. Why had he spared him, because of the words of a slave?

"That bow has magic in it, it never misses." The beauty deadpanned matter-of-factly. In the tumult she had not forgotten the words of the thief that foolish day he found his way into Cora's web. There was no way the Dark One could have missed his target least, he perform his own to disabuse the arrow sight.

With a curse the fiend turned to her to offer a biting retort to his much too perceptive servant. "Well perhaps the magic just wore…."

His breath caught like a fist in his chest. Azure eyes glittered merrily with something… new. Something he could not comprehend. The sordid black heart, lodged like a forgotten treasure in his chest, pulsed with a foreign emotion long lost to his vile, beastly senses.

"Off…." He finished numbly, his black eyes riveted to her as he managed to form the words and let the last portion fall from his lips.

Happiness surged in a wave through the beauty with the thought that her masters former quarry still lived. His clemency proved there was someone behind the Dark One, someone who was not as dark as people claimed in hated, frightful whispers and in the dead of night beneath the cloak of darkness.

Taken by emotion of the faint glimmer of goodness in him, a glimmer somehow she always knew lurked in his form, the beauty wrapped her arms about his neck. Her slender body pressed close to his gray-gold skin without a hint of revulsion to his vile figure. To see him as more than the Dark One brought a new facet of his ever changing being to light. He was much more, she knew, and now she held the proof as physical truth instead of only the whispers of her heart.

Stepping back the beauty looked coyly at the frozen Dark One. He seemed witless, as though not knowing what recourse to take after her touch, let alone hugging him. "Aren't you coming?" Her mouth tipped in a faint, demure smile.

A smile weakly twitched upon his lips as he followed the girl back to the awaiting carriage on the other side of the trees. Words tumbled from his mouth in an amiable tone as he walked step in step with the beauty. Chatting like old friends once more renewed in a deeper friendship, master and slave spoke freely to one another as they slowly traipsed through the forest enjoying the afternoon.

Starring down from her clandestine perch above her slave and lover's knoll, Cora's deplorable pet raven clacked his silver beak darkly at the spectacle. His ruby eyes, enchanted by his mistress caught every moment.

Looking through the ravens eyes at her keep, the witch took in every moment the ravens eyes displayed. Anger roiled and stewed darkly in her vile husk of a heart as her almond eyes in the iris of her ravens followed them through the veil of thick trees. The curtain of stalwart beeches and ancient oaks did little to hide their close companionship, and little more to stifle the pleasant words to one another that came all too easily from their smiling lips.

Her spell clever fingers clutched tightly into twin fists at her side, turning paler than the first snows soon to fall over the realms. Though she couldn't have disproved his words when he stared her in the face and assured her is reasoning for taking the sheriffs tongue, she was not naive enough, to simply take him on his word.

Though she made all haste back to her dreaded citadel, she employed her raven to follow above their own hunt; to view his actions alone with the girl from the canopy of the trees. Looking down from above on a gnarled perch, she witnessed all that transpired from the freeing of her slaves chains to the unwarranted clemency of the Dark One.

A hard frown scoured her pallid face as she stared at the last place they had been together. By the looks of his choices, the odd feeling in her bones and her suspicions were indeed correct. Something was truly amiss and she now knew what.


	15. The Way Home

Golden, warm fall sun settled down pleasantly over the fall encumbered woodlands of the rich realms near Nottingham. Peace filled the entirety of the massive forest as the Dark One and his lovers slave began to make their trek back to Cora's dreaded citadel. Nature itself seemed to quell any troubles in thanks for letting the notorious thief of their woods live another day with his lady love.

The horses pulling the luxuriously dark and gold carriage trotted lazily through the small, curving dirt road carved through the bucolic Sherwood Forest. Taking their time through the land they meandered pleasantly over the rolling knolls, through the deep recesses of the forest, and many a time skirting the fringe of trees that separated fields and valleys from the gnarled undergrowth of the woods.

Multitudes of bright yellow wild flowers splashed with smaller sprigs of sunny blue and deep purple flora hedged the insipid road with color, and bowered the gray trail with vibrant delight to the senses. Through the curtain of trees that hid the carriage from fearful eyes, they saw the rich emerald lands golden with goods and the rolling meads of the world that neither much belonged to any more.

The journey was far longer than the one coming to the forest, but for that Belle had no quarrel. Freedom sang joyously through her veins to be out from the stone mausoleum of her dastardly owner. Cold wind briskly kissed her cheeks and adding fire to her pale flesh in a ruddy hue painted against her flesh. Golden sun warmed her skin in a blaze of cheer that filled her to her very soul and shred the clouds of melancholy far from the beating of her stoic heart.

To be out of the confines of her prison was the sweetest of waters to drink and the most soothing balm to her beleaguered soul. Out in the open she felt herself human once more with feelings and thoughts instead of a piece of living, working property owned by a heartless hag.

"Thank you." Belle muttered with a shy smile as the carriage of her venomous mistress slowly rumbled through the dazzling, autumn enthralled forest.

The fiend snorted jestingly at her repetitive phrase. His lips contorted into a genuine smile that he hardly ever beheld before his lover. Skinny arms crossed, he pinioned his black dots upon the beaming woman. "That's the seventh time you've said that to me since we've gotten back in the carriage." An amused huff fell from his thin mouth. "What am I being thanked for _this _time?"

"For allowing the horses to take their time." Carnelian faintly tinted her cheeks in a demure blush. "I can't remember the last time I saw trees or the sun or even a flower." Embarrassment welled in her throat with the heartfelt admission. Averting her wintry blue eyes, the beauty looked to the black floorboards tarnished with gray grit. "Foolish, I know." She finished self deprecatingly.

A frown pulled at his gray lips towards her grateful shyness. Thin gray-gold lines wrinkled his visage. "Cora truly has never let you out?" Consternation laced his creased brow.

"Certainly not." Replied the enslaved beauty. Sitting back in the plush seat, she stared out of the window thoughtfully, her eyes absorbing the wondrous colors. "Cora shows kindness to no one she thinks below her, especially not slaves."

Dour silence reigned supreme from the all too true observation about the evil witch. Cora was not a kind woman by any stretch of the imagination. She wasn't even truly kind to him, merely attracted to his darkness and the lust that conspired therein.

"It's not foolish." The Dark One replied at length, disbanding her notion of ignorant sentimentality. He jolted from side to side in his seat as a carriage wheel rolled over a hole. "Things we once took for granted now become prized treasures when we lose them."

Of that, he reasoned direly, he knew all too well.

A soft smile traced the beauty's pink lips as she turned her head up. Admiration gleamed like freshly unearthed jewels glittering in her azure depths. "That was beautifully put Rumpel. You have a way with words"

Looking into forever, lost in her sapphire gems, his wizened heart lurched once again against the hollow of his chest. Ever since he let Hood free to be with his family and she hugged him, the experience was coming all too often to his beastly senses. What was of even greater alarm to him was that he did not care in the slightest. Truth be told, he enjoyed the feeling an errant glance her way caused to his numb heart, once more twitching to life.

The shadowed cloak that once hid who she truly was under a blanket of darkness and humble submissiveness was gone and dismissed to a morass of fear long left behind. Before him was the true Belle in all her glory and he was enchanted.

No there was more to her than her special enchantment, he knew in the depths of his foul heart. Oh so much more.

Stretching like some lazy cat awakened from a nap, the Dark One flexed his stationary limbs as best he could in the confines of the black carriage. His bones popped pleasantly in their sockets as he allowed a tactful yawn to escape his thin lips.

Flicking a wiry claw up in prompt magical command to the accursed horses, he bid the animals to a halt. Perhaps, he figured, more for her than himself, a walks would do them both a spot of good.

Obedient, the enchanted creatures drew to a precise pause. Shaking their silky heads and snorting, the beasts once more stood awaiting instructions from their magical driver directing their steps.

"I'm tired of riding." The Dark One informed his curious passenger. "Let's walk for a while." He slipped easily from his perch and to the gray path.

Helping the beauty out, the magical fiend slowly let his ebony eyes take in all of her as she stepped free of the black carriage. Sunlight danced in her chestnut mane, turning her locks into a ruddy umber. She wasn't necessarily tall, he noticed for the first time. She was only a few fingers under his own height which wasn't particularly great.

Her chestnut mane was thick and cascaded in a dark amber cataract down her slender shoulders. Though enslaved, the beauty stood stately and refined out of the eyesight of his lover. Even in the tattered golden dress she looked beautiful and noble as certainly she must have when she'd been a princess.

Oh yes, indeed he was enchanted with this Belle; _his_ Belle.

Laughter warm and soft as the rays of light that filtered through the dying trees spread infectiously from her smiling mouth. "I'd be happy to walk with you, Rumpel." She informed the dark master and vapidly padded down the gray snaking trail gouged from the woods.

A truth had never been so pure from her heart, Belle knew inwardly. Looking back she couldn't recall anything so great she desired than to walk with him under the vibrant trees and bask in the warm rays of fall sunshine upon their faces.

How could she make him so nervous, Rumpelstiltskin contemplated wildly, his mind in a whirl with but her single smile. A wary grin of his own flickered upon his lips as he managed to order his feet to move and fell into step with the beauty. Hands behind his back, the Dark One kept her vapid, pleasant pace as they started on their way.

Quiet pervaded the sun gilt forest as they marched through the flower embroidered path. Lost in the awe of the woods they trod like silent guest in the majestic court of fall. Only the crunching of their shoes on the grit gave any noise from them. Tack and harness jangled and clinked from behind as the accursed horses calmly trotted behind the pair with their lightened carriage load.

What could he say to her, the fiend scrounged about in his mind as they ambled down the gritty path winding out forever before their eyes. Already they exhausted everything they already knew about one another and toed the line of things they knew they should not inquire. There was nothing more to be said about much of anything.

"I am sorry about your plight." The magical monster consoled sincerely, before he could clamp the words from his wily tongue.

Hiding a visible flinch, he kept in languid step with the content beauty as they meandered. His black eyes stared at her from his peripheral sight, gazing for any pain from his choice words. Heaven above knew he did not wish to cause her any more pain than what she endured.

Over the months in the Dark Castle, he had come to pity her. The life she lived was not fit for criminals let alone the kind, quiet Belle.

Sorrowfully, Belle shook her umber head. "Don't feel sorry. You've done nothing. I chose this life knowingly."

"You chose misery." He spat wryly, his words awash with acrid bile. Life could be so unjust. The person who deserved happiness was the thrall of the one who wished to ruin all goodness. Even he did not appreciate such a cruel twist of mocking fate.

The beauty heaved her shoulders in a plaintive shrug, her voice saddened to the point of regret. "We all have our burdens to bear, Rumpel. Some our heavier than others."

Nodding in silent agreement, the Dark One looked down to the gravelly path snaking through the forests side. His knee high black boots kicked up minuscule clouds of gray dusts as he toyed about with prickly, delicate words lingering about like humming bees in his mind.

He knew those words she spoke were true as well. If he had learned anything from being the wielder of dark magic, everything came with a price, a burden, a toll.

Nippy wind whispered through the dying trees, prompting the leaves to pick up their feet in a dance as they fell once more to silence. A hoard of dried leaves rustled down from the shedding trees and upon the road and swirled in a small cyclone of colors. They wove and twirled and dipped as though all partners in an elaborate dance before falling to the earth once more to rest themselves on the trail.

Belle shivered at the merciless maestro of wind but smiled in rare delight at the sight. Autumn, no matter how cold, was her favorite season.

A frown tugged at the Dark One's lips as he saw her body quake with cold. He had not thought the day too brisk himself, but then again, he supposed with a bleak curse to himself, he was clothed quite warmly. All Belle held was a tattered dress.

Snapping his dexterous talons, the Dark One, called magic to his charitable will. Purple smoke engulfed his hand before the wind spirited the fog away in another dance of leaves. As the fog departed, resting in his scaled grip was a green and gold cloak. The cloak was simple, but thick to keep the worst of the wind away. A silver clasp in filigree in elaborate woven knots adorned the joint of cloak to cowl to keep the garment securely in place.

Wrapping the cloak about her, his dexterous fingers gently roved over her shoulders and clasped the silver pin together near her swan like neck.

Grateful for the gift, Belle bundled the cloak about her to stave off the probing fangs of fall. Pink tinted her cheeks as she ducked her head in the face of the boon and sidled closer to him in silent thanks.

Swallowing hard, the Dark One focused on breathing in and out as she strayed closer. His heart and lungs and stomach and even his cunning mind acted in the most preposterous manner when she was close.

"About earlier." He began tenuously to quell the jarring beating of his flipping heart. Trepidation burdened his tricksters tongue with a burning question that tattooed his mind since the early beginnings of the entire encounter.

Part of him knew he should not ask, but his curiosity and dread were too hungry to be sated with ignorance. He _needed _to know.

Belle's lush mouth curved into a dark grimace. Pain and the memory of lingering terror all as one flickered in her cobalt orbs. "When she tried to whore me?" She queried for clarification.

Nodding warily, the magical fiend sighed. "Has she ever tried something so horrid like that before?"

"No." The brave beauty shook her head resolutely. "I would think she would if she had the opportunity, but until you came along there were no visitors to her castle. She had no need to… loan me out." An icy shiver trailed up her spine at the unpleasant thought of bedding the most remiss, ignoble of her ilk. "Now though I fear…." The last words lingered ominously unspoken.

Protectiveness clawed over the Dark One's murky black heart in the face of her nameless terror. Beastly owning banished even the evil rotted over his forgotten soul. As long as he had breath in his ancient lungs, being bartered as some sort of pleasure deal would never become her horrendous reality. She suffered enough as she was.

"Cora shall never do such a thing to you." Rumpelstiltskin swore solemnly to even the foul darkness in his very being. "You have my word."

Turning to the fiend, the woman perched a brow to his vow. Though she knew not much of his deal makings, oaths, even she knew, were rare if at all existent to mere mortals. "You mean that?" Hope fringed her voice.

"I always keep my word, my Belle." The beast assured his beauty calmly. He would have sworn upon his dagger if such would have driven home his point. Such a terrible thing would never befall her. Anyone who chose to strike such a vile bargain would end up torn to bloody rags by his hands before they laid a foul hand on her.

Touched by his words, the beauty ducked her head to hide a smile. "Your Belle? Are you my master then?" Humor laced her tone.

"You no I don't see myself as that." Joking laced his reply. "I feel somewhat..." The Dark One fought for the right word. What did he feel for her? His heart jumped at his own inward inquiry. Stashing the contemplation away he cleared his through imperiously. "I feel somewhat responsible for you." He finished, though the words seemed far too inefficient in his mind.

That was a part of what he felt, but not nearly all of what bloomed in his black heart.

Placing a work worn hand on his arm the beauty smiled happily into his gray-gold face. Her eyes were watery, transforming her blue depths into crystal. "Thank you." The words came out in humble gratitude from the very depths of her heart. How she wished to give him more than a thank you, but what else did she have?

"You don't need to thank me Belle" A sly, impish smile sprang to his lips as his heart leaped.

She shook her head stubbornly. "I do need to thank you so much more; a thousand times more."

"And what are all these thanks for?" A huff fell from the fiends gray lips.

"For or being my friend." Her voice was soft as the cloak about her shoulders with the simple, unexpected explanation. "Thank you for being my protector."

There was no doubt left in her mind after all he had done he was her protector. He who took the brunt of Cora's wrath for her and even diverted her mistress will. He who, even steeped in his own pernicious fury lied for her to keep pain from assailing her flesh. He who guarded her secrets and her rebellions from Cora's cruel eyes.

Ice claimed the Dark One's heart at her reply. The words, so soft and true and her gentle touch blockaded the darkness long steeped in his soul. No one, as long as he could recall had ever called him a friend. He was called many thing both cruel and dark, but never that.

He could have taken a step away from her in that instance, which he knew he should. He should have disbanded her notion of a companion and ally. He should have grown cold. He should have ranted angrily at her presumption and lied to her face as easily as he lied to Cora's. The moment she laid a hand upon him he should have disentangled himself and cast a cold wall up to repel her.

Instead, the Dark One placed his hand over hers. His gray-gold claws reverently touched her own as though her flesh was magic. "You're welcome Belle." The beast smiled softly to his… friend.

Grinning brightly at his face without a hint of disgust to his scaled hide, the beauty slipped her arm in his own. Arm in arm, they walked down the lonesome snaking path beneath the vibrant falling autumn leaves enjoying the silence their companionship wrought.

~8~8~

Darkness tinted the last of the foul treetops just as the Cora's carriage rolled through the fanged gates of her dreaded citadel. The clatter of wet cobblestones under horse's hooves heralded their arrival from their venture far better than any other sign of their return could have.

Reigning to a halt by themselves, the midnight beasts pawed at the slick gray flagstones warily. Opaque vapors streamed from their flaring nostrils as they jerked their heads and shook in horror.

Neighs of abject terror pierced the dark air as black magic slithered from the sable stones of Cora's keep. Tendrils of vile darkness coiled over their strong legs like hungry pythons squeezing the life from their limbs. Inch by inch, the magic devoured the skin and bone and flesh and blood. With a crazed shriek of terror the horses bucked and reeled. Hooves pawing at the air, the seemed akin to animals drowning in a sea of dark tentacles. The magic vines clawed over their hide, pulling them down and mutating their being. Bones crunched and reformed and skin pulled and shrank and seemed on the cusp of tearing to spill forth a tangle of organs and tube like intestines.

In less than a blink of an eye, the ebony, accursed horses turned back into their original form of large, pink tailed rats Cora employed for her gain. The beasts were monstrous, red eyed, sleek black beasts that scoured her larders in the dead of night for any dropped food.

Terrified, the four unwitting rodents scurried hurriedly off to their dark lairs inside the manse of Cora least one of her pet crows spy them from above and gather a late supper of magic tasting rat.

Belle swallowed hard as the horses once before her dispersed back into the rats they were born as. Horror swarmed her brave heart, but there was nothing to be done. She knew Cora employed such tricks for no other reason than to be a vile mockery of the magic the fairies were said to perform.

She should have been used to such powers, but could never feel at ease of such illusions and painful mutations he mistress wrought.

Casting the poor rats out of her mind, the beauty breathed the cool autumnal air deep into her body. Her lungs burned pleasantly with the effort as she gazed upon the midnight firmament.

The clear night sky was brilliant with glittering diamonds nestled in the velvet bed of eternal black. The trails of far off galaxies swirled in some milky path that led off to other realms dotted amongst the stars.

Though he and his lover had departed at the border of the forest sometime in the early evening, the Dark One had not been in any hurry to return back to her ominous citadel. The horses pleasantly cantered and an easy pace that belayed their rabid galloping and frothing at the mouth with Cora in command of their minds.

Master and slave took the long way through every dale and wooded copse and sunlit coppice and all too often the Dark One stopped the carriage to 'stretch his legs' drawing out the time of their venture. He had been in no hurry to view the foreboding walls of Cora's keep and for that Belle was glad beyond all measure.

Proffering his hand to the beauty, the Dark One smiled sadly at the woman he'd gotten to know so well through the day. Now they were back on Cora's soil where she was a slave and he but a lover.

Soft smile etched upon her face, the beauty gently took his hand. His strong touch brought a shock of safety to her that soothed her forlorn heart. Though she was in the keep of her cruel mistress, by his gentle touch her brave heart whispered she was safe and all was well.

Stepping down, the beauty looked into his fathomless orbs. Humor traced her mouth into the curve of a smile. "Despite the near… murder. I had a wonderful time today."

Even if the only moment was simply for viewing the falling leaves and basking in the freedom of the outdoors, the day was an utterly grand one by his side. They had taken precious time for walking and talking or merely staring at the beauty of their realm. They shared a conjured meal on the top of a knoll that allowed a lovely view down to a charming little town in the countryside.

She had given her gentleman a flower after their luncheon and he had taken the wild flower and tucked the flora behind his ear. In their rest they laid back on the lush grass and let words flow free from their heart as they watched errant clouds upon their own journey through life in the endless firmament.

In her mind, the beauty could well see more of those days beside him, watching the leaves turn and the snow fall and then the budding shoots sprout on the awakening land. The thought was pleasant to say the least.

Still, she sighed inwardly, her imaginings were merely a day dream from an avid day dreamer.

"The hour's late." The Dark One stared deeply into her aqua depths, his voice a whisper in the blackness.

Gazing at her, the fiend barely noticed his hands still grasped to hers. His thumb traced small circles over her hand as he held her close.

Belle ducked her head bashfully and bit the side of her bottom lip. Regret filled her veins instead of blood. She did not want the time to end, but like all good things, they had to part. "I know. I should get to my cell. Cora's likely to have me up extra early."

Cora. Despite himself the Dark One frowned at the moniker of his evil lover. Cora; the deplorable name stuck like a jagged fishbone in his throat. All at once, the thoughts of her came rushing back. The hour was late, he had no head of the thief, and there was no excuse for his tardiness.

None of that was going to be good.

Pressing a hand to her back, the fiend guided her to the towering black doors of her mistress keep. "Better move. Perhaps she's gone to sleep." He dared voice his hope aloud to the beauty.

"Perhaps not." Cora refuted calmly from behind them.

Stopping as though caught like thieves themselves, the pair froze. Anxiously they both tossed a wary glance one another's way. Things were not going to be good.

Turning about in an instant, the Dark One smiled fiendishly to his love. Shadows adumbrated her pale features, but the darkness did nothing to hide the rage flickering like errant flames in her cunning almond eyes. She was none to happy at many things she saw and did not see.

Taking his hands slowly off the beauty as though she were some priceless object he was not allowed contact, the Dark One rose to challenge his angry love. "Cora, I see you waited."

"In vain." The witch replied candidly, her voice a lance of frost and her mouth skewed into a sneer. Almonds eyes scourging the magical monster, the sorceress ruby lips thinned into a red line painted across her face. "Where is the head of our little thief, Rumpel?"

Of course, she knew of the clemency, but if she did not act surprised and furious, the fiend might very well suspect something amiss. Besides, she was eager to hear what lies or truths he would speak.

"On his shoulders the last time I saw." The Dark One lied easily. "We didn't find him. Our information was poor."

The witch nodded succinctly as though the excuse was a legit one, though she did not like the fact. "I see." She quickly flickered her eyes to the frightened, bowed slave awaiting her mistress words. "So you spent all this time scourging the woods for the thief?"

"Until the dark began to close in." Rumpelstiltskin crooned sensibly and flourished his talons. "You know how I hate to disappoint you."

A half amused huff fell past her glossy scarlet lips. "No doubt the slave slowed you down." She paused for a moment and peered deeply into the encroaching darkness. A cloak he must have summoned for her adorned the slave girl now to ward off the cold "Where are her chains?"

"I took them off." The fiend explained lightly, his voice forcibly careless. He feigned exasperation to her questions. "They would have made our coming, if we located the thief, heard for miles."

Sighing, Cora stared all suffering at the Dark One and her slave. Some small tether seemed to bind them that forged a camaraderie. Oh yes, she knew inwardly, her odd feeling more than justified, there was something with them, something she could extort to her advantaged if tendered correctly.

Plucking insouciantly at a pointed sleeve, the witch frowned darkly at the poor news she already knew. "Since I've been cheated out of a thief I suppose the slave girl will do." She turned her gaze fully to the humble beauty. "I believe you know what you'll be doing fro the next few days, slave."

"Cleaning the tower steps mistress?" Belle broached tentatively, her voice low and rife with fear. That was her best guess, but only Cora knew what cruelties she had in store, especially those that angered her.

A wicked grin curved her mouth. "Smart woman." Cora chuckled vilely. "And since you can stay out all day tromping through the forest like some vagabond, you can get started now.

"Now?" The Dark One piped up at the incredible punishment to the beauty. "Cora the hour is…."

Abruptly clearing her throat in warning haste Belle brought the fiend to silence. There were some things that couldn't be talked about so argumentatively. Cora would grow suspicious of their friendship should he argue every punishment.

Remembering himself, the Dark One shut his mouth. His lips were a thin line that held back his words to save her. Gathering the sudden caring he had and forcing the protectiveness away, the fiend breathed deeply. "An excellent idea Cora." He proclaimed to the suspicious woman.

"I'm glad you think so, Rumpel." She smiled charmingly to the grimacing beast. "I'm going to bed now. Don't tarry to long down here. We've had a long day." Snapping her fingers, with that, she was gone to her chambers leaving the pair alone once more.

Injustice surged in the Dark One's black heart as the sinister magic wafted over the crisp autumnal winds. His heart swelled to bursting with rage that shifted the darkness away into the crevices of his weathered soul. How dare she do something so utterly, ruthlessly deplorable.

"Why did you stop me?" Rumpelstiltskin turned to the beauty sharply, his word laced with confusion. "I could have changed her mind."

Belle tossed her head, her lips holding a small sad smile. "I appreciate that. Truly I do, but to bar her from everything would only make things worse. She would get more creative and more vicious."

"I though I was your protector." Taking a step closer, he frowned in disapproval at the thought doing nothing to ease her suffering. She called him protector and he liked the title. Yet what sort of protector stood by as those he protected were hurt?

Placing a hand on his slender shoulder, she huffed a mirthless laugh. "Protector yes, master no. Do not forget Cora still holds my bargain. When everything is laid out, I am still her slave, and I know enough about magic to know you can do nothing about that fact."

Milky gray vapors billowed from the Dark One's mouth as he snorted derisively. Inside, he knew her words were all too true, but that did not make them any easier to swallow. The last thing he wished to see was blood staining her ragged dress and her fingers cold and numb with icy water.

"Fine." A growl rumbled softly past his thin gray lips. "But if you require my aid…."

What? A sudden panic overtook his lips, driving his outlandish words to a tremulous halt. What would he do if she needed help? What could he do besides try to divert his lover from her cruel intentions?

Taking a step lumbering back from the beauty, the Dark One stared in sudden disorienting awe. Blinking rapidly he gazed in abject horror of himself. Disbelief etched his gray-gold features in tandem with the wariness of her beauteous face. Being under shadow of the walls brought them back to a harsh reality of their caste.

What were they doing, talking so lightly like familiar conspirators or dear friends under the shadow of night? He was the lover of Cora and she was the slave of his lover. They shouldn't have been talking so, and yet they were.

What plague had infected them to make them think that suddenly such a thing was suitable? Why did their interactions feel so right? What was happening to them?

Shaking his straggly, dirty brown head, the Dark One turned away. Head down, the fiend forced himself not to look back at her lest his heart be enraptured once more in the insanity of everything.

His black heart and plotting mind netted in an ancient web lay in all shattered jumbled inside his scrawny figure leaving him to try and put the pieces together in a way that made sense. Why did she rouse such odd things in him? Why did he allowed her to do so?

Rife with the same emotions, the beauty departed inside to find the tools to clean the tower steps and get a very long task started. Perhaps, she supposed as she traversed the cold, black halls, the punishment would not be too terrible. At least the time scrubbing the coarse stone would allow her to sort the many different things swarming confusingly in her spinning head.

A smile tipped Cora's glossy ruby mouth as she watched the interaction below from her red windows. Her eyes scanned the pair so close and talking to one another in a duplicitous manner of allies.

Fathomlessly black jealously sparked like a roaring inferno in her chest, but she pushed the useless emotion aside for others that would serve her all the better. Watching them part from above in her gilt bed chamber; a new plan slowly began to take root and form in Cora's bright, malicious mind.


	16. Wine

"I've gathered another substantial portion of wild magic." Cora softly informed the Dark One as she shifted in her plush seat.

Sitting directly opposite of the ancient sorcerer, the cunning witch glared at the dastardly thing she called lover. The spell worn pads of her fingertips patted together in a small rhythm as the new declaration fell from her sly ruby mouth. Soon, that onerous chore would be finished and they could commence sorting out every minute detail for pilfering the good magic of the abysmally helpful fairies and casting their world into abject ruin.

Light filtered in through the undraped, titanic windows of the main hall, as the dark witch and the dark master lingered like phantoms, eternally bound to the keep, in the treasure laden chamber. Golden sun was distorted from the crimson glass casting the powerful persons below the window in dark crimson shadow as they languished in the main hall. Under the scarlet light they looked akin to shadows themselves, making a mockery of human form.

Demurely leaning into her plush burgundy leather chair, the cruel witch stared at a chess board that separated them. The game rested on a circular, three legged beech table easily moved from place to place for convenience of closeness.

In the boredom of the vile witch resting her powers for a new moment to strike and waiting for new streams of powerful wild magic to spring up, she and her love were mostly busy making potions or cutting the rare deal. Yet when even the bustle of plotting and weaving machinations to life died into a dark lull, they were left to do more than find passionate solace in one another's arms.

Too long were they both simply wandering about like phantasms in her dread citadel, or with either she in her tower or the Dark One spinning endlessly for hours. The thought of a fine chess game had been her idea. They were both extremely cunning with a penchant for schemes, but a trial of wits was always good for the long days languishing in evil nothingness.

Even with malicious intent they had to find a way to whittle at time that bound them all. So they found themselves at the table in a battle of stratagem and cunnings rather than plots that would affect the whole of the realms.

The pieces upon the bone and obsidian board were carved straight from Cora's dire, black imagination. The pawns were crafted akin to war weary slave troops with their spears dipping low in fatigue and their bodies bandaged in upon heads and arms and legs as they marched to death. Rooks were crafted as crumbling towers of ruined citadels parapet, destroyed from ages long war. The knights where haggard war bedraggled horses with drooping necks who had lost their riders. All four bishops wore tattered raiment's of those clerics who found no follower for all had forsaken their deities. Surmounting them all, king and queens were skeletons draped in mocking finery of their stations as they sat in caskets forms as affluent gilded thrones.

Each piece was molded in wretched detail of ivory or obsidian that would turn the eye of even the most morbid, but for the witch the set suited her fancy quite nicely. The trials of war were never pretty and she held no intentions to make such a set of dissolution.

Flickering her sly almond eyes to the Dark One, Cora eyed his emotions tactfully drawn upon his ugly features. A frown formed her cheery lips as she saw his gaze not turned to her but aimed towards the slave girl behind her.

Elbow on the carved armrest, the fiend leaned his scaled fingertips on his left hand. The Dark One's eyes were aimless dots of fathomless sable as he stared past his cruel lover to the woman standing dutifully behind her mistress' chair. His ebony eyes pinioned upon the slave girl as though she were some strange new curio to his beastly gaze. Novelty or her enraptured him into the strangest of distractions at the oddest of times.

Ever since that day weeks ago, he acted as such around the slave girl. He stared and gaped and sometimes brooded all the while his eyes stapled upon her. When not plotting or spinning his attentions were all but branded on her.

"Rumpel." Impatience laced the witches tone. Bitterness carved her marble features for a moment before she veiled the riotous emotion from her features. To have him suspicious simply would not do.

Shaking his head as though ridding himself of some alluring siren song wrapping about his mind, the beast flashed an insipid grin to his love. "Excellent Cora, all the more closer to our goals."

"And?" She perched a neat brow.

Confusion crinkled the face of the Dark One at her continued inquiry. His brilliant mind scrounged blindly about to find something he missed whilst his thoughts were elsewhere. What else had she said? "I'm sorry?" He finally asked tenuously, his voice apologetic for the clarification that proved his guilt of letting his mind wander.

"Your move, Rumpel." A sigh fell from her glossy lips in terse reply. Rubbing her temple in tiny circles with her fingertips, the witch scoffed. "You make look like a dumb beast, but you aren't stupid as one. Do keep up."

Delicately, plucking up a knight in his black nailed fingers, the find moved him in an 'L' formation to take one of Cora's white pawns. Knocking the pawn down with a flick of the wrist he banished the piece all in the same smooth motion. A sliver of purple thread enveloped the pawn in a coil of magic and placed the piece to the side of the table as he put his knight in place.

Taking a sip of fine wine in a golden, ruby studded goblet, the fiend smacked his lips. "There. Happy now, Dearie?" Satisfaction laced his low impish timbre.

Dutifully, Belle moved in as the cup left his pencil thin lips. Glazed brown jug of wine in hand, the assiduous beauty narrowed in like some tangible shadow beckoned form the world beyond. Cora never missed a chance to put her to work for some simple, demeaning errand. Tasked to served them as a cup bearer, she poured another dose of cold crimson wine in the sweating goblet.

Like magnets, the Dark One's black eyes flickered up to her even with the small action. What was wrong with him, the thought danced wildly through his vile mind. Why was getting his mind off her such a chore? Why did he despise taking his thoughts away from her?

Finding her sapphire depths, he flashed a rapid grin, showing nothing of the thoughts milling about his head. "Thank you."

Studiously nodding, not daring to return his sincere smile with Cora so near, the beauty slid away, like some ghost lingering in and out about them. If Cora caught an inkling of what transpired between them, she would most likely simply kill her slave altogether in a wave of rage.

"Something on your mind, Rumpel?" Cora inquired curiously as the slave retracted. Her sly eyes flashed a lightening glance to the girl before focusing on her lover once more. "You seem… distracted."

The moment she discovered what lay in his foul heart, she had felt a surge of blistering anger coil over her form. Rage bubbled through her vile sensuous body like a vein of lava to the surface. Stoically, the witch clamped a vice on the bubbling emotions seeping through the striations of her heart. She couldn't just rush in with accusation. There had to be a time to be bided and moments to observe to see just how far he had fallen and how she could use such to her advantage.

If she played her cards right the beauty could be a valuable pawn, but only if she ascertained what laid betwixt them.

A faint hint of a genuine smile traced his narrow gray lips, showing a mouth full of his dappled teeth. "Just thoughts of the future."

That, to a degree was no lie. Indeed his thoughts roved to the future, the future of the magic good and bad and wild, the future of their plots bearing fruit, the future of himself and his malicious lover, the future of Belle and what she meant in his life.

After sparing Hood's life something strange bloomed a small blossom against the black steel of his heart. There was something new now that could not be easily crushed by the heel of the darkness lurking inside. Evil wished to stamp out the little stem and the intrepid buds dotting the vine, but nothing could stifle the rabid growth of the new life boiling within.

The thought of Belle being enslaved to his cruel lover infuriated him, but on the same hand, her enslavement guaranteed his nearness. How long he could go seeing her so miserable though… Cutting the aspiring thought down the moment the contemplation surged, the fiend faintly shook his head. _That _was a thought for the future.

"I see." The witch took her own draught of cold, sweet wine. Hints of early winter's grapes flared gently across her palate from her exquisite wine. She only drank the best of course.

Before the beauty could zone in to bring her mistress' cup back to brim, the witch placed a delicately small hand over the rim of her goblet. Her eyes never once left the Dark One, but she was all aware of every move the beauty made as she retreated a few steps away from the table.

The strange gazes of her formally cowed slave girl to her lover had not escaped her knowledge either. Behind her back, the girl stared at the Dark One as much as he did her, the witch knew imperatively without even taking a spare glance. Simply by looking at the Dark One, she could see the girl behind her did the exact same. They talked silently with their sable and azure eyes; holding a conversation that was both mysterious and circumspect to even themselves.

Normally, the girl would never dare stare so blatantly, but her mind was burdened with fatigue from her strenuous chores. The girl was tired beyond imagination. Her chores of scrubbing were never pleasant and the tower stairs more so. How she was even standing straight was an example of her stalwart tenacity, but also the card that gave her away all too easily.

Flicking a small but power laden hand to the chess board, the witch moved one of her doubtful bishops to the knight he had just placed. On the board he had unwittingly opened himself up to several moves to take his queen and in a few more his king to finish the game.

"What thoughts of the future then Rumpel?" Mocking pleasantness laced her voice. "Do your thoughts linger on the fairies?" The witch queried insouciantly.

Silence retorted as her only reply, leaving the sting of her words numb.

Casting her vile eyes up behind the veil of lashes, the witch caught his gaze again upon the woman behind her once more. Anger, misbegotten of copious jealously stored away, flared wildly and spanned out across her foul heart. Sometimes emotions could not be stashed away in a wink.

Slamming the flat of her hand on her upholstered armrest her red lips molded into a displeased snarl. "Rumpel!"

Caught in act, the fiend turned his black eyes back to the witch. Sun beaming in from the crimson panes turned her features into a dreaded carnelian tint cutting him.

"Yes, Cora?" He replied in a feigned teasing manner, his mouth curved into an impish grin as though jesting with her.

"Pay attention." Ice fanged her dangerous tones in shards of frost. Her almonds orbs eyes bored into him cruelly up and down, in no mood for his impish antics. "I don't put up with your company because I simply want to look at you."

Flippant laughter fell from the Dark One. His features turned into mock horror and offense as he placed a scaled hand to his heart as though struck by the darts of her venomous tongue. "You wound me, Cora. No need to snap, Dearie. I was simply thinking of my next move."

"Why?" The cruel witch shot back. "You'll lose. You always do. You have cunning in many things, Rumpel dear, but I always win at chess." Pride filled her haughty timbre with the mostly true statement. Even before magic she held a cunning mind to plan nine moves ahead for everything. Just like with the magic.

"Actually…." Belle took a sharp intake of breath as the words slipped unbidden past her lips. Her heart froze with the rest of what she deemed to speak. What was she thinking?

Pallid tint ghosted her features as she clamped her mouth shut. What was she thinking to open her mouth? For a long while she managed to hold her peace yet the words tumbled free with her mistress's insults. Had she been in a stronger state she would have held her tongue, but exhaustion and injustice made words slip out.

Rage crawled just beneath her skin at the witch's attitude. She was not pleased with the cruelty she dealt to the Dark One, but certainly she hadn't meant for any words to slip free from her brave soul. Or… perhaps she had.

Observant to even the smallest changes, the witch narrowed her attentions on her slave girl. Surprise sparkled in her almond eyes at the blatant speaking out of turn from her slave. What made her suddenly so bold and daring again? What brought that woman she had squashed years ago into the perfect obedient slave back to life?

Turning about, the witch glared murder at her slave. Hatred and loathing filled her almond eyes as she glared at the bowed servant holding the brown pitcher. As of late she was getting bold once more. The old Belle she had crushed and mutated into a cowering, obedient slave seemed a flimsy façade to mask the rebellious, outspoken slave girl that first arrived.

"You have something to say, worm?" Her voice challenged coolly.

Belle raised her head a touch, meeting her mistress dark eyes for a moment. Averting her gaze again she shifted nervously on her aching feet, her azure eyes looking into the cold spirits she held. "I couldn't help but notice the chess board when I went to refill the master's cup." She explained delicately, her voice wary and mingled with tactful humbleness. "I… I see a way he could when is all."

Cruel laughter barked abruptly from Cora's slick ruby mouth. Black amusement swirled like vile smog her heart that belayed her frothing rage for a brief moment. "You think he can win? You're stupider than I thought before." Beckoning the girl, the witch motioned for her to place the clay jug of wine down by the board. "Come then, slave. Show me how he can win. Prove to me he can, and I might even give you a taste of wine to celebrate your impossible victory."

Tenuously placing the pitcher on the tripodic table side, the enslaved beauty walked forward. Bravery and fear collided in a tangled mesh of battle within her heart, but she refused to let Cora drape the cloak of the terrified slave over the true Belle again. Not when Rumpelstiltskin had awakened that woman once more.

Padding over to the board, the girl surveyed the pieces placed on their checkered squares once again. Her azure eyes roved over the morbidly carved pieces left on the table and the ones they had taken.

Tenuously picking up the Dark One's black bishop she moved the figurine out on the field alone.

"What a foolish thing to do." Cora snapped haughtily and moved her rook to take the offered piece. Slapping Belle's piece of the board, she let the bishop roll away to the floor.

A smile softly curved Belle pink lips as she shook her head. "Sometimes we have to give up something to win the bigger prize." The beauty explained to her cruel owner. Taking her other bishop she took one of Cora's pawns.

Too late did Cora see what her bright slave intended. Her cunning eyes widened in sheer disbelief at the subtle, clever move from the slave girl. The dark bishop figurine effectively aimed towards her king who was caught at all sides with no where to go but in the same direction of the bishop. Her queen could not move to block, not any other piece that could afford her advantage.

Victory glittered in Belle's bright cobalt eyes as she backed away from the board. "Check mate." She didn't even try to sound humble.

Still as the stone of her castle, the witch stared at the offending board. Her cunning dots scanned the positioning of the figurines like a hawk marking out the route of prey. Every move for every piece she tossed over in her mind, but there was no move to make. The girl had decidedly won the match with a few tactile moves.

Chaotic fury erupted in errant bursts inside the witch with the show of her failure so blatant before her. Gouts of red, blistering angry jutted from her black volcano of a dreadful heart.

"Bold of you slave." Her words dripped poisonous honey as she smiled nearly pleasantly. "Still, I can't deny your triumph and a bargain is a bargain."

Suddenly viscous, the witch gripped the ancient tripod table. Heaving the table as she stood up she upended the perch and all the contents.

Ivory and obsidian pieces mingled together as they clattered in a black and white mess to the stone floor. The ancient clay pitcher tumbled end over end and cracked against the merciless rock. Red wine and brown shards of clay mingled together on the gray stone and stained the pieces wobbling on their sides. Liquid ran into the groves and striations of the stones, offering a hard labor of scrubbing to clean the hard grains. The black and white board was cracked in a corner and lay on the playing side in show of sore defeat from the witch.

A wicked smile marbled Cora's pallid features as she stared at the mess she caused. Vile satisfaction did a bit to balm the burning of her heart into a cooler temperature that composed her flaring rage. "Since you've won…" Cruel boiling bile mingled with her alluring voice. "There's your wine; you can lap it up. Then after that you can clean the rest of your victory off the floor."

Without looking to find the Dark One's eyes and what dismal, disapproving emotions dwelled there in his sable orbits, the witch gathered herself imperiously. "When you're done with your victory you can start luncheon slave. And next time." Her eyes hardened as she stared at her bowed slave. "The next times you have some ludicrous epiphany of cleverness keep the thought to yourself. Remember what you are slave, only a piece of property and property should never be smarter than the ones who own them."

Turning away sharply, the malicious sorceress snapped her fingers and transported herself in her tower. On any other occasion she would have stayed to berate her slave girl and watch her clean up the mess, but being away opened the Dark One up to the woman where he could be if she stayed about.

A soft sigh cleared Belle's tight lipped mouth as the witch disappeared in a veil of black magic raven feathers that swirled about her form and spirited her away. Kneeling down she began to gather the pieces of the glazed pitcher.

Happiness sparked at her bright heart even though the witch left her a large mess to mend. Beating her at her favorite game was worth such a punishment. Just the look on her face made the victory worth the trouble.

She herself was no novice to the game and if her mistress ever challenged her to a sport of chess, the witch would find herself sorely outmatched. Oh but that would be too painful to Cora's pride and therefore her slaves flesh.

"She was right about one thing." The Dark One finally spoke up after the match ended and the witch was gone. Kneeling down as well, the fiend proceeded to help gather the mess. Working studiously without magic, the fiend plucked up wine wet pieces. A proud smile he could not banish stretched his lips. "That was bold of you, Belle. Dangerously bold."

A half smile came to her lips. His actions of kindness, no longer surprised her, though his aide was always as pleasant as his company. "I wasn't trying to be bold. I just… how she spoke to you wasn't right." The beauty snorted in roiling anger.

The though still brought rage to her chest. How dare she be cruel to such a man. He was not some animal though she spat such cruelties to him like some poison saliva from her forked tongue.

"They may not be good word but they're right." The fiend heaved his slender shoulders in a shrug and began to collect the morbid chess pieces again. "I'm a monster true enough."

Tenderness perked a small smile upon the enslaved beauty's lips. "You're not a monster. You think you're uglier than you truly are, that's why you stand her company…." Abruptly her words trailed off into the bleak realm of realization. Horror traced her features as the words she spoke caught up to her mind. Dark red liberally painted her cheeks as she caught herself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said such a thing. She is your lover after all."

Silence prevailed as the pair tended to the mess of broken pottery and figurines and tumbled table. The words she spoke from the depths of her soul lingered in both their minds and heart.

Did he really think himself a beast?

Did she really think he was not a monster?

Did he only abide Cora because he thought himself darker than she?

"Well that's all of the pottery." Belle shifted the pile of wine stained cracked shards to the side. A grimace swathed her face as she wiped her wine stained fingers on her tattered raiment of gold. "Now let me get to this wine."

Scrubbing was going to take a fair while, she knew. Nothing liked to come out of the stone, especially not liquid. With her luck she'd be through right went the time to prepare lunch was due.

Flourishing his wiry fingers through the air, the Dark One summoned black magic to his call. Focusing on the potent liquid, the fiend formed the spirits by his dark power. Slowly the wine began to shiver and take form that he wished. Magic crafted dark red wine into something special for the victor of the match. Since his lover gave her the rest of the wine, he saw no reason why she should not have the reward.

Plucking up the magic endowed wine, the fiend held the items gently betwixt his black nailed fingertips. The wine, once in a wayward mess was now shaped into a glossy wine red rose. Dark magic hardened the spilled spirits making the rose liquid still on the inside but like glass to hold.

"Here." The Dark One presented the gift to her as they rose in tandem. A sly half impish, half human grin pressed upon his gray-gold visage. "If you'll have it."

Delight the beauty could not conceal bloomed upon her lovely features in a ray of warm light. Kindness touched her heart with the surprising, thoughtful gift. "Why thank you." She accepted his wine rose.

Dipping a small curtsey, the beauty hid a bashful smile.

Heart bursting that she liked his gift, the Dark One bowed in kind, every inch the gentleman.

A giggle tumbled from Belle's lip at the courtly gesture. He could be a man with manners with he was of the mine, particularity around her. The thought he went an extra mind made her feel special in ways she hadn't in decades.

Holding the crafted flower close the brown haired beauty gave an intrepid sniff of the magically crafted bloom. Soft aromas of exquisite wine swirled in her senses instead of the perfume of a rose. Still, the thought was sweet coming from him and imaginative in every manner.

Holding the precious bibelot like some treasured trinket, the beauty turned away slowly. Red tinged her cheeks as turned away to hide the fierce blush from his perceptive sable orbits.

"You had a life, Belle before… all this." Gliding away from the remnants of the mess reaped from Cora's rage, the fiend eyed the tender slave from the other side of the large table. They seemed like shy partners in a tenuous dance neither was too certain in taking part.

Certainly she must have long ago had a fine life, the fiend supposed. Pity sprang to his black heart at the thought of her old days before thralldom. A girl such as her must have had people swarming about her at ever turn, even more so with her noble status and her pleasant… Belle-ness. People would have congregated to her even if she was no one of noble caste "What made you chose to come here to work for Cora?"

The beauty shrugged her delicate shoulders as she padded away from the Dark One. "Heroism, sacrifice." She placed the rose like a gentle breath upon the table and began to scoop up the pottery from the floor. "There's not a lot of opportunity for women in my land. When I saw I could save my people that was my chance."

"Surely you must miss your people; friends, family…" His voice grew wary in his throat. Swallowing hard, his eyes scanned her circumspectly. "A courtly interest." The fiend finished sturdily to veil his trepidation. Icy claws clenched at his sordid heart as the last part left his lips. Noble women like Belle were oft married before there 18th year. Was she different, had she been a bride to be?

Sliding into his normal seat at the far end of the large, polished table, the Dark One stared intently at the beauty gathering the last of the mess Cora spilled in her cheated fury. His gray-gold talons tented in a pyramid under his chin as he unabashedly observed the woman that sparked some errant heat in his black heart and cast light over that which one was dark.

Her bright smile died upon her pink lips, dimmed by thoughts of times gone by. "All I had was my father, never many friends. I miss my papa greatly. As for any courtship plans, Gaston, he was my betrothed." Her grin returned a bit at the mention of the noble knight. "I can't say I much miss him. We had an arranged marriage, more of convenience than anything. He was a friend but I never loved him in the way I man and wife should love. That was one thing I did find solace in when I came here; not having to wed him." Shaking her umber mane, the beauty carefully deposited the broken shards elsewhere in a waste bin. "No, I could never give my heart to someone as superficial as he."

"Why not?" The Dark One heard himself whisper, though he felt not at all in control of his wily mouth. Looking at her, hearing those words, congealed his cunning and the trap upon his tongue. Word and queries that lay in his heart spouted forth from the depths of his hidden soul.

Wiping her hands she danced back to the large oaken and jumped upon the edge. Placing her hands on her laps she fiddled coyly with the remains of her tattered dress. "Love is not some deal to be made. No to me love is… layered, a mystery to be uncovered." She shook her head, her eyes cast down. "I could never give my heart to someone as superficial as he."

Awe blazoned freely upon the Dark One's face as he stared at the enslaved beauty. Her admissions made his soul sing in a chorus he could not contain. How could one girl make his heart beat so? How could one slip of a woman make him… make him…?

Plucking up the delicate wine rose once more, the beauty assiduously held the stem by pinched fingers. Admiring the gift once again her smile brightened once more. "I should probably put this away before Cora sees."

If Cora caught a glance of the lovely trinket she would assuredly break the trinket. That, Belle determined immediately, was not going to happen.

"Of … of course." The Dark One stammered lamely, wondering why he hadn't said more, breaking the spell of his thoughts.

Ducking her head once, the beauty slipped like a shaft of pure light from the chamber leaving the main hall in the shadow of the Dark One and his strange heart.

Staring off into the dim crimson nothingness of the main hall, the fiend let the images of her swirl abut his head in a jumble. Belle, he smiled at the name that became the most cherished in his mind.

Beautiful, wonderful, Belle.

In the dim hall just outside the chamber, the beauty lingered about the threshold like some wayward ghost. Darkness swathed the dreary aperture like a cloak threatening to engulf and smother her as she stood in the blackness. For once Belle was glad of the dimness for the eternal black hid the face molded with new emotion.

Leaning against a jet black pillar, the beauty held the gifted rose close to her flipping heart. Her work calloused fingers delicately touched the crystal crafted petals with the shivering pads of her fingertips. Crimson light swirling within the magically molded rose glowed soft red pulsing a ruddy tint upon her pale flesh.

Hints of luminance from the rose penetrated the hand of darkness casting away the blackness into bleak shadows about her body and heart. Looking thoughtfully at the bloomed, magical rose, the beauty let her mind wander to the one who crafted such a special prize; Rumpelstiltskin.

Thoughtful, kind, Rumpelstiltskin.

Staring out at the bleak nothingness that once laid waste upon their hearts, the beast and the beauty found in the shadows of their worlds there was something there that wasn't there before.


	17. Emotions Awry

_A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Have a good Thanksgiving tomorrow! EAT EVERYTHING! :3_

**~8~8~**

Soft tendrils of gray dawn light slipped insipidly through the deep crimson panes of Cora's dreaded castle tower. Bleary, sleepy rays heralding the new day showered the large, dim room with a dark scarlet hue akin to the rust color of dried blood over the tables and shelves and books heaped about.

Though the morning was upon them, the night had offered a rare delight for Cora.

In a shadowed corner by the hearth, Cora's pet raven fluttered his inky wings as though stretching from some nightmarish toil. Every so often the carrion fowl dipped his silver beak in his jet black plumage and arranged his feathers like some noblemen straightening his tunic. His blood dot eyes stared upon the Dark One and his cruel mistress as they stood in the deplorable apothecary so early in the morn.

The night was laden with excitement for the fowl who came and went at his owners behest. In the long hours of slumber Cora oft opened a tower window and sent her coveted pets to locate any powerful magic's that would pique her interest. They flew over the realms, black dots darker than the darkest night peering into every nook and cranny for a hint of power and last night had yielded a fair reward.

Immediately, with the sense of powerful magic lingering about, he had winged his way back to his mistress with the news of what his dark being sensed. How happy she had been! She had stroked his feathers affectionately, and cooed in her soothing voice for the fine job in searching out such magic.

Her eyes, more wicked than his own gleamed with scheming wrought of her infinitely cruel mind. Though he was merely a simple animal, the raven could ascertain what his mistress had in mind. By every step and word she spoke he could guess what she entailed in the night and now to her evil lover in the beginning of the day.

"A mirror." The Dark One echoed to Cora incredulously. Knee high black boots padding a steady rhythm upon the stone, the fiend paced the vile apothecary thoughtfully at the mention of such an item. His sable eyes narrowed upon his lovers evil depths with dubious intent as he stalked back and forth with a tigers dangerous, preying grace.

The witch nodded her head imperiously, her face holding no inkling of fabulist falsehood. "That's right. You know how I send my ravens out to locate any scrap of the old, forgotten magic. I received news last night, while you were downstairs, of an enchanted mirror."

Like some aimless ghost the evil sorceress drifted gracefully to a stone window sill. Her cunning eyes stared out from the ruby panes below to the barren, dead grounds of gnarled tress and gray soil of her castle. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew, such a thing would catch his interest.

When they had been together years before, to seek things that could pry the veils of their word and leap into another had been an obsession for him. In the centuries that passed them the passion for such things had dimmed somewhat, but any whiff of an item that could achieve his goal had him once more scrambling about.

"A mirror that can see what you truly want?" A hint of hope pierced through the suspicions of his low, impish tone. Eagerness tugged in a ethereal cord against his black heart. The thought of such a treasure set his mind to far off realms that could house such a wonder and to live his dream and make amends to the one he let go.

Her lips curved into a ruby crescent. He was like a foolish fish about to bite a wriggling worm speared on a hook. "Not just what you truly want, Rumpel; different places as well. Any place to see anyone."

"Bae." The fiend whispered the name like a solemn promise. Pain slashed over his rough features as the fond moniker for his boy, long lost to him, left his mouth. With such an exquisitely powerful enchanted thing he could look into the mysterious star filled shrouds that walled the worlds from one another's eyes and find his boy at long last.

That was delicate territory, Cora knew imperatively. Anything about his boy was a line she knew all her cruelty could not cross. She could not offer him false hope, nor could she squish his belief.

Her carnelian mouth pulled to side. "Do you still think he's-"

"Yes." The magical monster cut in softly, his voice slaughtering the implication she offered. "He is alive. I know in my heart he is."

Taking a deep breath, the witch feigned encouragement to her lover. "Then go find the mirror Rumpel. Perhaps you will see your son and wherever he went."

"Were do I find the mirror?" His lips barely pried apart for the inquiry. Talons folded behind his back, the Dark One eyed his love from behind. The infamous imp he was, but when matters of the heart came to the fore, he seemed once more the man. Standing tall, he looked every inch the eager, noble human with a quest in his vision.

Tracing a finger over the cold pane, the witch cut a quick grin. The reflection of the glass caught her smile, showing her lush ruby lips to the Dark One who looked not at her but her scarlet reflection from the panes. "A troll is said to covet the mirror in his lair under some far away fen. His name is Grendel."

"No wonder no one has discovered the mirror." The fiend snorted a low mirthless chuckle.

Grendel, legend told, was one of the strongest trolls in all the realms. Trolls themselves, even the most common, were no weak challenge. Even if he wasn't the strongest of his race, the thought of battling a troll was not something anyone looked forward too. Towering and thickly corded with muscles, their sheer strength alone could tear a man in half and still have strength to battle a whole party of warriors and blooded knights. All trolls possessed regenerative properties along with their savage, bestial ferocity. While magic could affect them, great quantities was required to do them pain.

Luckily, most were recluses and the famous Grendel was no exclusion. His habitation was said to be in the bottom of a murky fen that none before could swim too. If any treasure was to be had, there was a good a place as any to find one.

Turning around the witch vapidly glided to him. Placing a small, delicate hand on his shoulder, her almond eyes stared with painted hope into his listless black depths. "That is the only way to get the mirror I fear. Trolls aren't known to deal in bargains. Brute force will be the only way to get what you want."

"Oh believe me, Dearie." The fiend stared down into her rich, wicked eyes, his black orbits glinting flecks of golden greed. A feral, dappled grin split his lips. "Nothing will stop me from getting that mirror.

Inside the depths of her soul, the witch couldn't help but laugh at the beastly fool. Of course nothing would stop him from obtaining something she could use as well. Let him have all the peril; she would reap the reward.

~8~8~

Belle hummed a pleasant, bucolic tune to herself as she carried the laden tea tray through the dreary, dawn kissed halls of her mistress' foul keep. Shadows hedged her all around in the corridors, promising only despair and darkness, but even the ghastly shades of Cora's citadel could not touch the bright flare of her soul.

Something strange beamed like a new sun in her heart, and any darkness that neared was shred away into a thin mist of nothingness taken away by the winds of joy.

The thought of the glass, wine rose carefully tucked away in her cell bolstered her spirits by no mean sum. His gestured tattooed her heart and sent her spirit free with thoughts that never dared arrive in her head before he came.

Happiness soared upon eagles wings in her heart. Her soul, coaxed out of the blackness of the broken slave girl, burned with a leaping flame that could not be doused by even the darkest of shadows. All about her the blackness shied away to her light and she strode down the halls a proud, bright flame; the flame Rumpelstiltskin roused.

Every thought she held as she toiled was too the Dark One. Every soft breath held his name in a tender whisper.

Shifting the gilded silver tray in her calloused grip, the jubilant beauty opened the door leading to the main hall. Her heart pattered erratically at the thought of seeing him again even though only a night separated them. A smile perched upon her lovely face as she danced into the gilt chamber. "Good morning Rum…"

"Expecting someone else, slave?" Cora replied insouciantly to the beauty as the girls words died upon her lips.

Draped like a lounging cat in the Dark One's normal chair, the wicked witch stared at the enslaved woman caught in her sights. Her thin legs dangled off the edge of the padded armrest like the Dark One did at times, a malicious caricature of the imp who normally sat in the seat. Her cunning orbs studied the enthralled girl that got up early simply to serve the Dark One first.

Immediately, Belle dipped her head subserviently, her instincts that were instilled in her for five years racing through her blood. Part of her wished to back away and disappear into the darkness, but there was no use now. Her feet shuffled over the cold stone as she brought the tray to the large oaken table. "Mistress I didn't know you'd be up." She began to lay the meal out carefully.

"I suppose you thought your master would be sitting here." The sorceress replied, her ruby lips curling into a sinister grin. She shrugged her thin shoulders, her tone suddenly careless. "Well he's gone for the day, off to collect some trinket." Syrupy honey laced her voice. "Which leaves just me and you." The last words carried a tinge of ominous forbearance.

For all her plotting and planning, for all her schemes and cunning the truculent envy she felt for her slave was a mighty force washing against her black soul and swelling her emotions to a flood. Jealousy bloomed dark, foul blossoms along her black, porous heart that twined upon the twitching husk. Rage coiled in a cataract about her soul, flowing with the molten lava of untamed fury with every view of the woman to whom her lover endowed his attentions.

Now, with Rumpelstiltskin departed on his own consuming quest, her anger rose back to the fore. How dare she be shown up by some… slave chit.

Calloused hands sturdy to her task, the beauty forced her nerves to cease there trembling as she set toil. "Yes mistress." She replied far stronger than she felt. Working at an even pace she gathered a tea cup, not Rumpel's she noted with a flare of happiness, and poured the tantalizing brew. She and the Dark One always shared morning tea so there was no fear of her mistress putting her wicked lips to his cup.

Despite her fear, courage rose up to her brave heart as she tasked for her slaver. The woman the Dark One had managed to coax out of the shadows was not going to go back to the darkness simply for the slave who managed to survive for five years to return replete and obedient.

"Did you enjoy your victory yesterday slave?" The malicious witch queried in taunting politeness as she watched the girl work in silent swiftness. "Your meaningless, futile victory?" Taking the doctored tea cup from the table before the girl was finished, the sorceress heafted the cup in mocking. "A toast to a cunning slave girl." Dark, almond eyes still stapled upon the beauty, the cruel witch tipped the cup and poured the hot brew to the stone.

Runnels of brown, sweet smelling tea splashed into the floor by her chair with the insulting gesture. Hot tea gushed through the striations of the porous black rock as she made certain the last drop found a place on the floor at the base of her chair.

Placing the cup down on the table slowly, the witch smiled almost amiably, and tented her fingers beneath her chin. With every moment of her cruel actions, her plans were taken out from the beach of plotting to the sea of jealousy boiling remorselessly in her heart. There needed to be a revival course for the slave girl, she surmised promptly. The chit was getting too bold, too brave once again and she had spent enough time stamping out that bright flame of Belle four years before.

"Go on slave." Cruelty liberally laced her smooth, soothing timbre. Flares of hot, blistering envy glinted like sparks in her cunning, narrowed eyes. "Have another drink to your victory."

Cold shards of fury frilled like frost upon the beauty's heart at the sight. Rage beat a mighty tattoo against her brave heart, chasing away the last insipid shreds of gray terror lingering over her soaring soul. If she meant to cow her slave she had instead done the exact opposite.

The last time Cora had done such a thing, she had been forced to lap up the last of the drink. That, so many years ago, had been when the real Belle broke under the cruelty of her mistress. That had been when her body and mind thought resisting was no longer worth the pain and humiliation. On that day she had crumpled and remained the cowed slave wishing only to survive a day without being beaten until Rumpelstiltskin had arrived.

Hate smoldered like cold icy fire in her azure eyes. There was no way she would let that humiliation happen again. The broken, cringing Belle was gone now and forever.

"Slave." Cora's voice crackled dangerously, her eyes hard as stone. The smile fell from her lips into an angered frown. A spell worn finger pointed at the mess. "Drink." She spat venomously, demanded she be obeyed.

A cold smile drew upon the beauty's lips pink lips. "You first." She parried coolly with as much ice as the witch hissed her acrid bile.

Magic flared out like an awaiting serpent from Cora's fingertips even as the words fell from Belle's mouth. Massive dark talons of magic shot through the drafty air and grasped at the enslaved beauty's slender form. Curling over her work worn body, the razor claws squeezed their prey tight at Cora's behest.

With but a spare thought, the witch pushed the claws to the wall. Her mind commanded every singled inch of magic that captured the beauty to instill pain. In a breath she could have snapped the girls neck, but such punishment was too swift.

Apparently, the vile witch noted grimly, the girl wasn't as broken as she once believed. There was still fire there, an ember she had not put out but was now back to a roaring blaze in her soul.

Belle grunted as her back slammed against a cold stone pillar. Grit crusted away from the column as she felt her body and bones dig into the stone. Holding back a cry of abject pain, her cobalt eyes stared fearlessly into the cruel dots of the wicked sorceress. She knew what would happen to resist or to simply apologize and lap the tea off the floor, but even death seemed better than being under Cora's heel again.

Crazed fury danced wildly in the dark mistress' orbits as she ordered the magic to squeeze the girl tighter. Sharp, black talons clawed wantonly into the girls flesh, trying to find purshace. Splotches of vibrant blood stained the ragged golden dress as the nails bit into her skin.

A wild, wide smile bloomed upon her carnelian lips as she dug the pointed talons into the girl's unprotected flesh again with a mental command to the magic. To see her writhe and shriek sparked sadistic cruel delight in her mind.

Jealously ran rampant in the witch's onyx husk of a heart, her emotions too loose to be reigned. "Foolish of you slave." The witch smiled venomously, her voice a dark sliver of giddy, malicious anticipation. "You should have waited until your master was back. At least he might have protected you from this."

A bloody scream tore from Belle's lips as the witch, finally, since the Dark One entered her citadel, got her cruel hands on her slave girl again.

~8~8~

The mirror was his! The Dark One chuckled aloud as the enchanted trinket came like a burning beacon to his mind. The magic mirror, a thing to stare into different places, was his!

Stalking happily through the woodland that concealed the castle of his lover, the magical monster enjoyed the deplorable aura of the forest all about him. The dread of the woodland certainly let one think or preen on some dastardly accomplishment.

Oily black blood stained his brown, tight clothes in a menagerie of smear and splotches wrought from a gory battle with the troll as he let his thoughts slip to the long hours before. Grendel had been quite a challenge even for him.

The simplest of magic spells merely bounced off his thick sable hide like pebbles thrown at a giant. Only the heaviest magic made the monster stagger and even then only a fair amount. Rows of yellow, bloody teeth sought to rip him in two, but magic and intelligence had save him in the tussle.

In the end he managed to rip off of the monsters bulging left arm. The beast screamed a death shriek that still made his ears ring, and departed from his underwater lair, leaving the Dark One to take his time gathering the treasure he sought.

In the search for the mirror he came across troves of treasure but none sparked his interest. Pearls and rubies and jade were all useless to him. He wanted one thing alone more powerful than anything else the troll had seized.

In lengthy searching he had finally come across the tool. The mirror had lain like forgotten refuse under a hoard of yellowed and bleached bones and rotting flesh from victim's torn limb from limb in the troll's ravenous gluttony and rage.

With his treasure he returned to the surface world. Black blood led in a zigzagging trail through the murky fens but he had no doubt Grendel would soon be dead. Besides for that, he held his treasures.

After giving the mirror a good scrub on the surface world, he finally observed his spoils taken from one beast to another. The enchanted tool was an oval hand mirror noble ladies from used. Silver crafted in swirls and roses held the mirror and the handle was of a flowers thorny stem. On the back of the mirror, scrawled in ancient writ a dedication for "Genevieve" was inscribed but nothing more.

In all simplicity, the mirror looked like some simple thing found in any noble ladies toilet, but then again, he knew, simple things could be most deceiving. With spoils in hand, he packed the treasure carefully in a satchel and headed home.

Patting the brown leather satchel at his side the fiend let an exuberant smile tip his gray-gold face. He couldn't wait to show Belle his treasure. The darkness in him bit viscously at his soul for the expectant thought, but the fiend ignored the sting. Belle deserved to be shown the trinket, and, he knew deep in his soul, she deserved the right to use the mirror first.

Her plight, even with thoughts of seeing his boy again for the first time in centuries, shadowed over his black heart. For five years she had no knowledge of her family or there whereabouts. She hadn't looked upon her fathers face in half a decade nor seen her homeland.

His grin widened upon his lips as the though of the new gift stuck in his mind. Oh yes, she would be ecstatic to see him. Pride flooded his heart at the thought and what would tag along with her joy.

A smile, one he treasured in the depths of his black soul would certainly spread upon her lips. The smile would be for him, all for him. She would be so happy perhaps she would hug his neck like in the forest or even… even.

Abruptly, something struck the Dark One in a wave of pain. Caught off guard, the fiend staggered to a sudden stop. The world was still dark and quiet, but something did not sit right in his blood.

An ill omen lingered in his misbegotten heart as the black walls of Cora's castle came into view from the fringe of the accursed woods.

His heart lurched painfully in his heart nearly making him fall to the ground and clutch at his chest. A grimace painted his lips as he eyes the black walls through the lattice of trees of the woods.

Something wasn't right….

~8~8~

Pain such as Belle had never known bombarded her in all directions. Lances of agony flared through her body with each slow pointed throb of her brave heart. Blood seeped from endless wounds and clung to her bruised skin.

How long the pain struck her body, the beauty didn't know. At times, the pain felt as though she had been tormented for days on end and at times she felt as though they were for moments and she would wake to fine herself coming out of a nightmare.

What little shafts of happy sun streamed through the windows in the morning were long gone leaving only a magical fire in the hearth and the massive panes black as her mistress' heart. Shadows danced upon the walls like cavorting demons in her murky double vision as though waiting for their turn to rend her skin with their razor claws and devour her blood.

"Useless, stupid, foolish slave!" Cora shrieked down mercilessly upon the injured Belle. Her body heaved in trembling fury as she stared down upon the bloody figure. Unfathomable rage coursed through her raging veins, turning her blood to mists.

Hours upon hours she had tormented her, but the girl refused to break into the weak slave girl. What was once an obedient slave who cringed at every wave of her mistress hands was now a piece of unbendable stone that would not be broken by strikes to mere flesh and curses.

"Obey me slave." The witch hissed like some foul viper with prey bound in the coil of scales. "Tell me what you are!"

Belle barked a bloody cough in tortured reply to her captor. A gory mist of her ruby ichor spewed in every direction as she writhed weakly in a pool of her own warm blood. Her body was cut with small incisions from magical claws in an infinite amount of places along her slender assiduous form, allowing her to bleed out little by little in the most tortuous pain imaginable. A larger cut gashed over her left eye making her mistress seem double in her blurry vision. At times she blacked out, but Cora was always there to make certain that peace was never for long. Black and blue bruises liberally dappled her body in a menagerie of contusions what hurt on the inside was too numerous to count. Her throat was ragged from screaming and her nerves all pulsed with pain.

Chocking back a clot of blood, the beauty looked up to her captor. "Don't hit me anymore." Her voice came out strong even in her pain.

"Then obey." Murder fringed Cora's dark voice, her eyes solid stone. The muscles in her jaw tightened in a clamp of frustrated rage. "You did once. Do so again. Obey me slave and break. Tell me what you are and this all goes away."

Weakly, the beauty tossed her umber head. Defiance glinted even sharper in her teary cobalt depths. "Never." The word rang clear and sturdy from her raspy throat. Never again would she be that woman who bowed and scraped to avoid pain, who allowed fear to dictate her life.

The witch lifted her spell worn fingers again. Black, foul magic wrapped cruel vines about her hand as she summoned magical thorns to her knuckles to assail the helpless Belle. "Then I suppose we will just have to con-."

Abruptly something strong wrapped about her magic laden wrist. Sharp black nailed claws dug ruthlessly into the flesh of her wrist before she could let her magic fly and assault the beauty. Powerful magic cut off her own, strangling her mystic skill to a dead halt.

Sharply turning about in confusion the witch found herself looking into the eyes of an enraged beast.

"Don't. Touch. Her." Jagged tongues of anger slipped from his snarling lips, his mouth forming every single word like a declaration of death aimed at the cruel witch. Fire danced wildly in Rumpelstiltskin's obsidian eyes. The aura of a raging dragon took hold of his dark heart.

For a brief moment panic cleared the witch's pallid face in a wall of terror. Her anger had overridden all her good sense with the unruly Belle in her sights. She had let time slip from her fingers like sand and had given not a thought to the Dark One's return to her fortress. "Rumpel." She stammered in a gasp.

"Don't you dare touch her!" His voice roared like thunder in her face. Using his power he slammed the sorceress to the wall. The grip on her wrist stood just on the precipice of crushing every bone below her hand.

Anger boiled in a hurricane in his heart. Fury bellowed in his soul, adding wind to his fire. To see Belle, his Belle, bloodied and beaten brought a degree of fury to him he had never know. Red coated his eyes as he aimed for her tormenter.

Sheer hate bloomed for Cora in his heart. His stomach roiled in disgust at the thought of even ever bedding her. The thought of simply ripping her head off her shoulders seemed the best idea ever to enter his mind.

"Rumpelstiltskin." Cora gasped, her breath caught with terror and pleading. Almond eyes searching his sable dots the witch saw only murder. He was deaf to her words, and for the first time in many years she was actually afraid. Of all the people who could slay her, he was the only one.

In reply his grip tightened. Bones snapped in her wrist as though they were frail sticks.

A how of pain broke from Cora's lips as he smashed her wrist to bony pulp. A simple magical spell would heal the pain, but for the moment, the agony was torture.

Letting go, the Dark One allowed the witch to slide to the floor to hold her hand. Utter hatred filled his eyes for her. "If you ever touch her again. I will kill you." Icy murder frilled his tone. With his current state part of him was surprise he hadn't ripped her throat out, but no, for all his rage he could not slay her.

Abruptly as his rage came, his rage dissipated in dragon smoke. Letting his hands fall away he turned back to the helpless, bleeding Belle. Feet barely making a sound over the blood stained floor, the beast neared the broken body of the beauty.

Pain speared his heart with a barbed, poisoned shaft that went through his soul and down to the very base of his being. The sight of her bloodied and bruised crushed his heart into a thousand pieces. Her body was limp and unconscious from the pain Cora heaped upon her. She probably hadn't even been awake long enough to see him deal with her tormenter.

Thoughts all for her circulated his mind on a dreaded carousel? Why had Cora done such a thing? Why hadn't he gotten there sooner?

"Oh Belle." The fiend whispered painfully below his breath. Kneeling down he stared in horror of the blood. "My Belle…."

Carefully as though picking up the most delicate of trinkets, the beast scooped the beaten, bloody woman in his strong arms. Holding her close to his aching chest, the fiend carried her away from the main hall and the woman who preformed such cruelty. She felt as light as a floating sun mote in his scaled claws, and equally as frail between his sharp, dexterous talons.

With a magical command he disappeared in a puff of purple smoke from the main hall to another part of the castle. Taking her to a gilt room on the second floor the Dark One laid her like a feather upon the bed. Magic surged and galloped riotously in his black blood as though racing to be the first from his fingertips to aid the beauty.

Snapping his talons, the Dark One brought forth a wet rag and basin formed from his magic. The conjured items appeared in a spurt of purple by the bedside as he moved to more powerful magic.

Battling the troll Grendel had tired him into laborious fatigue, but nothing would stop him from relieving the pains of his Belle. Even if he had to take them on himself he would ease her suffering. Outstretching his claws like some ancient shaman, he hovered his talon like hands carefully over beaten body.

Letting his puissant power flow through his fingertips he began to knit the wounds inside and out of her beautiful form. Slowly, her soft flesh began to knit together with his power. Blood surged to the rightful place in her form as he channeled his powers over her bloody skin. Cuts formed together and lefts not a trace of a scar. Even the gash above her eyes melted away, leaving the same beauty that had been.

In what seemed no large amount of time, the Dark One knitted every wound and stitched every hurt. His sable eyes peered down upon the beauty as he judged her stability. She was fully healed, but the magic would take a few minutes before she was back on her feet.

"Belle?" The Dark One called her name tenuously as the power receded from his fingertips. A hard lump bobbed in his throat to see the stains of torment upon her, his Belle. She didn't deserve anything the witch had done.

Just remembering the basin of cold water, the Dark One plucked up the soft gray cloth in the liquid. Dabbing the cool cloth to her features he painstakingly cleaned off the blood the witch eked out. His gray-gold claws moved with the most delicate of care as he rid his Belle of the stains of torment.

Vapidly, the beauty's eyes fluttered open as the water kissed her fevered skin. Her deep cobalt orbs darted wildly as consciousness took her again. Horror welled in her eyes for a moment, uncertain what had occurred. The last thing she had seen before unconsciousness were black thorns of magic entwined on Cora's knuckles aimed to bore into her flesh.

Struggling like some mad woman caught in a trap, the beauty fought to get up. If she had any amount of energy to fight her tormenter she would. "I won't." She flailed out blindly. "I will never surrender myself again!"

"Peace, Belle." Rumpelstiltskin placed a claw on her shoulder softly. "You're alright." A tear rolled down his gray gold cheek in a track of sorrow. The pain in her voice made him want to die. "You're alright."

Gulping hard, the beauty finally allowed her pulse to slow as he struggling ceased. Her heart backfilled crazily in her chest, threatening to soar out of her body, but his words soothed her nightmares of terror. "Rumpel?" Her blood smeared lips fumbled for his wonderful name. "Are you really with me. This isn't a trick?"

"No Belle." He stroked the side of her bloodied face he had not had time to clean. "I'm here." Pain choked his throat in a agonizing vice. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to prevent this. Oh Belle I'm sorry. That will never happen again. I promise. You're under my protection now. I won't let her get within a foot of you, my Belle." He swore in a solemn oath to the beauty. Never would he let such happen again.

Swept into the emotion of his blood bound vow, the beauty wrapped her arms about his neck. Safety warmed her heart from the icy terror the harpy induced. "Rumpel." Her voice sobbed with pain and gratitude. "You saved me. I knew you would."

Caught in the moment, the Dark One carefully wrapped his arms about her, holding her tight. Guilt remorselessly bombarded his black, shriveled heart. Though he had saved her, he was too late. She had been subject to indescribable torments all while he was ambling about, heedless to her pain.

Hot tears from the beauty soaked through his brown twill tunic. Her body heaved against him as she wept in the relief and pain of everything that occurred.

"It won't happen again." He buried his face in the crook of her neck. How he wanted to be strong for her, but he couldn't even protect her from pain. "Never."

A ludicrous laugh slid from her blood flecked mouth. "I know." She whispered softly into his skin. "I know."

Disentangling herself a bit from his grasp, the enslaved beauty stared at him. A strange look wrought of his rescue glittered in her clear sapphire eyes. His actions seemed to connect the last piece of a puzzle in her soul that opened a long locked chest in the very base of her heart.

Frozen in her stare that enraptured him so, the Dark One was numb as the beauty leaned and nearly, so very nearly pressed her lips to his. Sweetness from her supple pink lips and the iron taste of her blood exploded in his mouth in a kaleidoscope of tastes. Her full, supple lips were just nearly upon his thin gray mouth in a moment's passion.

Forever he seemed lost in the limbo of her lips skirting his, daring to seal the bond of mouth to mouth, and then the sweetness, like all wondrous things, was gone.

Parting her lips from his, the beauty looked aghast. Terror and fascination and wanting all mingled in her gaze. What had she nearly done?

"I'm sorry." Belle covered her blood stained mouth in horror. Spots of her ichor still painted his gray lips, holding testament of what almost occurred. "I'm so sorry." She sobbed.

Rising in an ungainly fashion from the bed, the hurt beauty raced to the closed portal. With renewed strength coxed to life by what had nearly transpired, she hurled the door open and took off down the stairs in the sweep of emotions and pain.

In the excitement of her dash, the cloth he used to clean her blood away wafted down to the floor by his feet, leaving the blood the only thing left of the beauty.

Solid as stone kneeling at the edge of the bed, the Dark One watched the last place she sat, his heart boiling over with turmoil and emotion. With the near kiss there was no hiding the secret in the corner of his own heart. The shadow was banished in the bright flare of her lips, leaving no more doubt or denial.

Nothing could hide the truth from his soul.

He loved her.


	18. Reflections

Lingering hints of tortuous pain flared through Belle's work hardened body as she awoke in the miserable darkness of her fetid prison. Coldness skirted her flesh like icy knives scraping over there skin. The roughness of the coarse, black stone dug viciously into her form, leaving the indentations of a solid sleep without moving.

Curled into a tight ball in the only home she'd known for five years the girl shifted vapidly over the barren rock she called her bed. Soreness and numbness from the frigid cold and hard stone both waged a battle for dominion over her form as usual when she woke well before dawn. Normally soreness won the day, but numbness was a better option to her battered body.

Slowly prying her sapphire eyes open into the abysmal darkness, the beauty shifted from her deadened slumber. Little by little a spot of light crowded her vision, forcing illumination into her cell.

The faint light from the glass rose coaxed a ruddy glow into her cage with a bit of radiance that cast the entire prison into view. Nothing was to be seen the dreaded confines, but the light provided a small measure and warmth and comfort to her heart and body.

For a groggy moment, the brave beauty's mind danced back into the relative safety of routine in her enslaved lot. The mistress would wish for her breakfast of tea and eggs, she would perhaps have to scrub a few hall floors, and Rumpelstiltskin….

Her heart skipped as his name entered her mind.

Rumpelstiltskin.

All and once, like an out of control carousel spinning in a dizzying whirl, the thoughts of the day before hurtled back into the forefront of her mind. Splashes of her own hot blood spattered across her blurry vision as she writhed in pain, the cruel grin of her slaver stabbed like a serrated lance down upon her unprotected figure, promising more pain, and then she awoke in safety with the Dark One looming over her. He had been the first sight when she awoke from her mire of unconsciousness, her magical guardian who saved her from the snapping jaws of the wolf that was her sordid owner.

Lost in the crawling darkness of her cell a small smiled bloomed upon her lovely face. He had saved her, taken her into his sinewy arms and blockaded her vile mistress from harming her. With the utmost clarity she recalled wrapping her arms about his neck and looking deep into his sable depths before she nearly….

A black curse flew in panicked remembrance from Belle's mouth with the thought. Heat blushed in a scorching inferno through her creamy cheeks, tinting her face nearly as red as the wine rose. She had so very nearly pressed her lips to his and felt the softness of his mouth for herself. She had so very nearly delved into the secrets of his tongue and words and emotions to see what laid beneath the scaly gray-gold hide.

Vapidly rising, her back against the furthest stone wall, the beauty combed her assiduous fingers through her silky umber tresses. Knees drawn up, she laid her arms on her knees and bowed her head in shame. Why had she done such a thing? Why had she nearly kissed him?

Abruptly a knock rapped upon the thick portal of her prison, killing her contemplations. Jerking her head up, the enslaved beauty stared at the door warily as though some monstrous creature lurked behind the wood. Anxiousness leapt through her heart like a wild deer running from archers.

Thousands of thoughts of abject terror raced in a frenzy through her thoughts. Was Cora come to finish her punishment? Had she concocted some new torment to beat upon her?

"Belle?" Rumpelstiltskin called her lovely name tenuously as he carefully open the door to her cell. The heavy rusted hinges creaked with age as he pushed the door fully wide and stepped inside her habitation.

Relief tinged by alabaster flares of wariness pulsed through her heart at the sound of his impish voice. Rays of soft orange torchlight slanted in her dark cell revealing his lean, gray-gold figure standing in the doorway. His normally neat brown and black garb were wrinkled, subtly displaying he had not thought slept so well.

"Rumpel." Belle returned graciously, his name coming like a prayer from her pink lips. Embarrassment steeped darkly in her heart, but to even see him banished such emotion from her soul.

"Are you alright?" The fiend crept carefully inside her prison, his every step as though walking on glass. He hadn't meant to come in unannounced, but there had been no answer from her.

A grimace carved his thin gray lips as his sable depths surveyed her barren home. In five years he had thought something might have shaped up to what could be considered a home at least with a bed or even a bale of hay. Instead bareness and cold dominated her cage, a prison in the basest, spatan sense. Cora truly had given her nothing and treated her as such.

Laughter, terse and mirthless, fell from the beauty's mouth. "I've had better days." She admitted tremulously, her pink lips curved in a faint crescent. The pulsing and itching of her healed skin certainly testified to that! "But that doesn't matter." She waved her hand as though tossing the brief pulses of pain away. "Why are you here? I would've been up in a moment to start breakfast."

Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, the fiend looked away to the stone all about them. "I… ah… I brought you something. I mere trifle really. There's so much blood on your old gown that I thought…." Forcing his nervous stammering words to a stop past his forked tongue, the beast snapped his fingers. Rather his magic do the talking that him rambling like a fool, he spat inwardly at himself.

A purple puff of fog came to his hand in a spurt of power, bending to his once nefarious will. In but a moment, a light blue dress draped in his gray-gold claws.

Blue matched her eyes wonderfully, he thought in his own observing on more than one occasion. He adored the way the blue in her eyes seemed to sparkle and fit in with everything about her as though they willfully bent to make her even lovelier. That was the most seasoned reason for his color pick.

The new attire was clean and neatly pressed thanks to his power and bits of his dark magic was enchanted into he threads for the utmost durability.

Keeping his eyes anywhere but upon her, the Dark One held the dress out like an offering. Nervousness danced freely in his black depths as he fumbled for words. "I though you could do with another."

"Oh Rumpel its wonderful." Belle gasped delightedly. Taking the gifted garb from his gray-gold claws the beauty held the gown on her knees. Scalding tear welled in her sapphire eyes for the wondrous boon her had given her. The gift was so precious and thoughtful coming from the man who'd already given her so much. She couldn't wait to….

Dread pooled in her heart at a sudden thought that clawed into her brain. Fear scaled the brave walls of her soul, poisoning her thankfulness with black bile. Cora would not miss such a thing. The dress would be like rubbing her face in his rescuing her and ending her magic.

Shaking her head, the beauty looked up to the kind beast. Fear flecked her eyes like dark spots. "After what you've done Cora surely will…."

"Cora will not be doing anything to you." His voice cut like an icy blade through the dimness. Fury mingled with determination glittered like tongues of flames in his onyx eyes, leaving no doubt to his words. His jaw knotted angrily even at the mention of the cruel witch. "No demands, no punishments, nothing." He assured the beauty, his voice a bit gentler to her.

Touched by his words, the beauty dipped her head. Her hands smoothed over the precious garment on her lap. "I am her slave, Rumpel." She stated direly. The last thing she wished was for that fact to taint such a moment, but the knowledge couldn't be cast aside. Even she knew he had no power over a deal fairly struck. How long could he keep that promise to her? The life she lived was Cora's to do with as she pleased. How long would his bower of protection last her before Cora threatened all she held dear?

"Not today you aren't." A small grin came to his lips. "Cora left in the middle of the night, no doubt to fume where she would be safe from me." The fiends smile fell a bit, once more the protector. "And even if she didn't I wouldn't allow her wickedness within a foot of you, my Belle. I will make this right. I can't stand you being like…" He proffered hand to the unforgiving dark walls and the cold, barren floor where she slept. "This."

Getting to her feet, the beauty grinned at the magical monster. "It's not so bad once you get used to it." She jested, now free of fear of Cora looming above her head like the specter of death. If the Dark One promised something, she had no doubt in her mind he would deliver.

"No one should have to get used to such conditions." The fiend snorted firmly, his smile fading a touch. Especially not his Belle. Holding out his gray-gold hand, the Dark One smiled looked into her azure pools. "Come with me. The time has come where you no longer rot in this cage."

Too long had she been ill treated by the spell worn hands of her cruel, sadistic mistress. Too long had she become used to all the cruelties and hardships. At least he could give her a day free of labor and fears and hopefully free of the hag Cora.

Laying her work calloused hand into his scaled claw, the beauty smiled a radiant grin that belayed the darkness of her prison. Even in her cage, with him she felt freer than a dragon in flight. "I'd go with you anywhere." Adoration filled her pleasant, heartfelt words. There was no one else she'd rather venture with than he.

"Just the kitchens right now." The fiend chuckled and slowly pulled her out of the shadows just as he had done her heart. "I'll make you breakfast for once, you can come back and change, and then who knows. Magic can take us anywhere."

~8~8~

Ominous doom lingered like the last unrepentant breath of a dying soul all about Cora's malicious senses. Darkness swirled in musty, cloying gray cobwebs in the foreign castle in which she found sanctuary from her former lover. Gloom found every bereft alcove of the place and filled the barren niches with dour dread and utter hopelessness.

Specters of the dead, long ago slain, wafted down every black, listless hall, their last dying shrieks of misery still whispers upon the drafty wind.

Here was the keep of the infamous, murderous Maleficent.

If any castle in all the realms took the title of most ominous, Malifcent's haunted stronghold took the prize. Nested perilously upon a cliff-side over cold raging water that led out into the unexplored sea, the witch's castle looked out over land and sea with haughty arrogance and the threat of danger slipping out at any moment that spelled her fancy.

"Not often you come calling, Cora." Maleficent stated in blunt boredom as she swirled a thin glass filled with spirits and sat in a high-backed armchair in the atrium of her keep.

The room was a massive chamber constructed by dwarves of long ago. The ceiling vaulted upwards into darkness of the unseen rafters. Titanic windows that went from floor to ceiling adorned the back wall of the atrium so that the person in the room could look out to the frothing waters and jagged rocks far, far below.

Huffing a laugh Cora crossed her legs and leaned back in her own chair that looked carved of old dragon bones. Picking up her glass offered by the fellow enchantress, she took a tentative sip. "People in general often don't come to visit one thousand year old dragon's old friend." The harpy's lips twitched in a smirk of sudden amusement. "Unless of course they have a death with." A false friendly smile smeared her ruby red lips.

"Unless they want something." The dragon in human flesh parried back simply, under no illusions. Taking a sip of her drink she shifted in the chair comfortably, completely uncaring of the harpy's reasons.

Cora replied with a colder smile towards the powerful dragon sitting only footsteps away in her human guise. Outraged fury sparked in her black heart, but she bore the rage in stride. Letting her bile show would be one of the worst decisions she could fathom. She would have cursed the dragon any other time but Maleficent and her age old magic was needed at the moment.

"True enough." The vile Cora replied plainly. Long ago she learned not to play games with the dragon matron. The reptilian witch was much to old for such trivialities mortals played.

"What I can't figure out is why you're coming to me for anything." A sigh fled the dragon's façade of supple human lips. Tenting her dangerously sharp nailed fingers she eyed the fellow witch nestled in the other chair forged of defeated dragons remains. "Rumors have drifted on the windy currents for months now that the Dark One has chose to reside with you. All the realms from King James to Prince Eric are terrified. I can't imagine why you would need something from me when the most powerful sorcerer is calling your bed home."

Dark, unadulterated hate and fury blotted Cora' pale skin at the mention of her former lover. The night still flashed by in lightening speed before her eyes. Her healed wrist throbbed in memory of what he'd done to her over a worthless slave.

Maleficent, not one to miss the look of rage, perched a brow, her look curious. "Trouble in paradise, dear?" Her pale, disconcerting lips, holding back rows of sharp teeth and a true forked tongue, contorted into a cruel mocking smile.

"More than you can imagine." The sorceress hissed, her emotions of fury etched plainly upon her skin. In an instant the look of anger passed as though fleeting clouds over a pale sun. Gathering herself again, she tucked away the rage for later. "We've grown apart, Maleficent, he and I. He would rather spend his time fawning over a slave, _my _slave mind you, dotting over her smiles and whiling away the day lost in conversations with her. He's hopeless in love with the blasted girl."

A sharp hiss of inhaled breath echoed from the transformed dragon. Pity flickered like an old memory in her slit black eyes. "That indeed must sting." She agreed and heaved her shoulders in a insouciant shrug. "But I highly doubt you came here to just tell me your lover was falling for another. Heart broken peasant girls do such things, and both of us are neither. That's never been your way, Cora."

"You know me far too well." The harpy replied lowly, her eyes turned to the bubbly golden drink in her hand. A tiny smile twitched faintly at her lips before falling away. "I came here because I though you might have something that would help me devastate them."

The dragon perched a thin brow. "Why not just kill the slave? Your magic is the one she struck the deal upon. For all his vast magical prowess he has no power there where magic has already struck an accord. Those ties are even too strong from him to snap."

"That would be too easy." Cora hissed darkly in reply. The madness of scorn danced wildly in her almond eyes as she calmly stared at the dragon. Her scarlet lips formed every words specially, forging the plans of her hate. "I want both of them to suffer for as long as they both draw breath. I want regret to take hold of their hearts and squeeze until the ichor drips poisons into their blood. I want them to be so close, but know they can never have one another. That pain is what I want from them, Maleficent. Sweetly agonizing and eternal."

Malice clawed over the dragon in a wide smile that nearly split ear to ear. Such hate from her friend caught fire to her blood. Such hate did not come by everyday. Rising stately from her dragon hide chair, the wyrm lovingly stroked her staff that was always nearby.

Her sharp nailed thin fingers caressed the wood as she stared at the crystal orb atop the magical weapon. "I think I have just the thing for you Cora. Something he will not detect nor suspect until far too late."

~8~8~

Golden sun smiled happily down upon the lush lands of the realms far, far away from Cora's ominous domain. Autumn was fast moving into the season of winter. Most of the leaves laid upon the ground leaving the tress lattice entwined tangles about the barren forest. All the crops were gathered in and the fields were bereft of any goods. Arrowheads of gray geese and other birds winged their way across the eternal blue sky to the southlands for warmer weather by the sea shore. Other animals bunked down to sleep or roamed the forest and the fields for what little was left.

Peace of the season ruled the just as peaceful realms and all seemed well from under the shade of Cora's citadel walls.

"The kingdom of Queen Snow and King Charming are some of the most beautiful in all the realms." Rumpelstiltskin explained softly to the beauty. Waving his hand over the knoll they sat upon the Dark One displayed the bucolic wonder of farmsteads and forest and wilderness all below their perch.

He had of course, offered to take her to see her father, but she had refused. The pain of knowing she could only visit would have been far too hard. The moment would have been far more bitter than sweet.

A soft smile tendered Belle's lush mouth as her eyes stared out over the parcels of lands and barren fields. Plumes of gray smoke billowed from chimney tops of comfy cottages and hovels and farm animals ambled about in their neat little pens. Children screamed in their childish way of play and chased one another in the sunshine whilst adults played chess under the awnings of their homes, knitted, or did light chores.

Above them all, further away, the castle loomed like a bright beacon, offering hope and safety to all. The walls were a whitish gray and seemed to beckoned freedom rather than lord dominance over the subjects that called the realm home.

Wrapping her cloak tighter about her body, the beauty sighed softly at the lovely sight of peace and prosperity and happiness. A plume of gray, milky vapors billowed from her nose in the cold. "I can believe the claims." She nodded absently. "They rule the land well."

"And they will stay that way." The Dark One stared intently at the grayish-white stone walls of their palace. Tawny light glinted from the stones turning the walls into a shinning glow of hope. "I will not give Cora the satisfaction of her plans."

After what she had done to his Belle, helping her was out of the question. He wanted no more to do with her or her plots.

The beauty's brow furrowed slightly. Though she lived long enough with Cora she was kept ignorant of all her doings. Such things were not for slaves to know. "You mean what you and her were working on?"

"Yes." The fiend glowered at the mention of the deplorable woman, his eyes hard. "But that won't happen now. The only thing I mean to do is find a way to keep her away from you forever and then leave her fortress and never look back."

Agony lurched in his wretchedly black heart for as he basked in her beauty and her lovely smile. Other words tingled expectantly on his tongue, wishing to spout forth like a flood but he curbed his emotion. Surely the first thing she would wish was to go back home to her father. She wouldn't wish to accompany him to his castle. She wouldn't want to have the title of being his love.

Still, if he could make her happy that would be enough for him. Knowing she was glad would balm the burning of want of his soul. So long as she was unhurt and glad then he could bare the burden of words unspoken upon his heart.

Hope alit her lovely face, brighter to the Dark One than a thousand sun shinning off a millions glassy stones. "That's very kind of you, Rumpel. Thank you doesn't even come close to what I owe you."

"You owe me nothing Belle." The beast countered lowly. Heart in control of his reaction, the fiend lifted a hand to her face. He had to touch her, to make sure everything he felt was true.

His wiry talons knocked a stray strand from her gorgeous face. Her soft skin felt like heaven against his rough flesh. She was so wonderful so….

Heat surged to his face as he realized what he had done. Touching her!

Jerking his hand away like he had touched a flame, the Dark One furled his hand back and laid his knuckles firmly on the hard ground. His sable eyes looked away from her, too cowardly to see if she was disturbed or welcoming to his touch. She must have been disturbed, he concluded inwardly, his thoughts dour, who but someone dark and evil would want his hand upon them?

Delirious elation pulsed through Belle's heart as his fingers tenderly touched her flesh. Part of her wished prayed, pleaded he would not stop, but just as soon as the moment came, the soft touch was gone again.

Courage and a tinge of humor flared recklessly in her heart as his touch fled from her. He needed not to be afraid of her. Placing a hand on his thigh she tired to find his fathomless eyes. "Rumpel."

"I have something for you." The fiend interjected quickly. Surely she would say she was grateful but had no interest in his untoward affection and mash his heart into dark pulp. Surely she would. Besides, the last thing he wanted her to think was that he aided her all because he wanted something back from her.

Calling magic to his black blood, the fiend focused on an item in his mind. Power thundered through his veins as magic went to collect his prize. In an instant something cold and silver sat in his grasp.

Wind pulled away the purple smoke to the barren tree tops as the fiend produced the item. "This is what I went to gather last night." He explained softly and turned better to her to show his prize.

"A mirror?" Confusion and eternal curiosity laced her melodious voice. He had left to go find a mirror that could easily be found probably in Cora's room?

A light chuckle fell haphazardly from his faintly smiling lips. "This is no mere mirror, my Belle. Legend holds this is an enchanted mirror crafted by a sorceress in Camelot that shows one you truly wish to see. One that has your heart" He held the silver mirror out to her. "Father, friends, land, anything so long as that thing is what most fills your heart."

"Truly?" Awe crackled in her timbre. Her azure eyes were as wide as blue moons as she stared at the seemingly plain mirror.

His fingers skirted the crafted silver edges of the mirror. "I've yet to try the mirror myself." He shrugged almost bashfully and held the mirror out. "I though you'd like the honor first."

"Rumpel." Belle spoke his name with ardor, her lips turned into a smile that took his breath away. Taking the gift, the beauty held the tool in her lap.

Shaking ff her enchantress' grin, the beast allowed a smile of his own. "Don't get too excited. I don't know if it really works, but if the magic still is powerful, then by all means."

"How do I…?" The beauty looked back down to the mirror.

"Place your hands on the handle." The fiend instructed softly. "Then put the mirror up to your face, close your eyes, and let your heart do the rest."

Nodding obediently, Belle lifted the ornate mirror to her face. Her fingers flexed nervously about the silver handle as she began. Taking a deep, soothing breath for her nerves, the beauty closed her azure orbs. Let her heart do the work, he had said.

Clearing her mind, the beauty focused on her heart beat. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she sat with her eyes closed and heart open.

For long moments nothing happened. No magical flared through her nor the scent of power lingered through the air. Not even the faintest hint of magic wrapped about her or the mirror. Anyone even the smallest child could detect magic, but there was nothing to the mirror.

"Feel anything?' The fiend asked tremulously, his voice hemmed with excitement.

Belle shook her head slightly. "No. I'm sorry Rumpel I think the magic might have been expended." She stated as she opened her eyes

"I was afraid of that." A dark curse spat past his lips. Guilt speared his heart with the failure. He had gotten her hopes up for nothing more than to dash them again. "I'm sorry Belle."

"Rumpel." Laughter fell in joy from her lips. Eyes open, but hidden behind the mirror, her blue dots stared in wonder at the glass.

Thin lines wrinkled his brow as his magical expertise milled through his mind. "I can't believe the magic didn't work." The fiend spat bitterly more to himself than to the mirror.

"The mirror works." Belle stared in awe at the pane. Letting the mirror drop she blinked moistness away from her eyes. Hot tears pricked her cobalt eyes and threatened to tip down her milky skin.

Alarm broke through his black heart at her tears. What was wrong? "Is there something amiss. What does it show?"

A single tear brooked down her creamy cheek as she smiled a watery grin. Turning the mirror around, the enslaved beauty managed a tearful laugh.

Blinking in surprise the Dark One stared. He hoped to see her father, perhaps an old friend. Instead, the fiend looked to see a reflection of himself….

For a moment he thought her action some trick. Sullenness entered his heart at the unexpected cruelty of her jest. Why would she play such a mean trick? A mirror did show just a reflection and not a very fine one at that.

Scolding for her mean trick nearly left his mouth just as the glass rippled. The old glass shivered like pebble struck pond water. Silvery ripples formed over the glass showing a new image.

Looking closer he saw not the face he held at the moment but the face that stared at her when in the forest sparing Robin Hood's life. Abruptly, the image shifted again. The glass swirled like some mystic true silver before another image clear. This time the image showed him above her with a stained cloth in his hand wiping away the dried blood of Cora's torments. In a heart beat the image swirled again to show the Dark One there before her, a perfect refection of him.

"It's you Rumpel." Joy hedged the lump in her throat. "My heart loves you the most."

As the images faded from the mirror the Dark One cast his black gaze to the beauty. Awe and happiness, true happiness sparked in his fathomless ebony dot. "I thought I was alone in my love." He whispered hoarsely, his words running wild in his heart. "I thought my love was only to be given."

Wrapping his arms about her, he hugged the beauty tightly. Hot tears stung his midnight eyes as he let all his love burst forth from a heart too long wallowing in vile darkness. "I love you Belle. I love you."

Taken off guard by his grasp, the beauty let the mirror fall to the hard earth to wrap her arms about him. Falling with a dull thump, the silver gilded mirror looked upwards. In the glass of the mirror, the reflection showed the truest of images ever shown upon the glassy face.

The beast and beauty hugged one another tightly, speaking their words of love and affection that too long waited to bloom from their clandestine hearts. Finally free, they let their love run away with their passions.

The image reflected of them was nearly a perfect match for what they held dear in their hearts. Truly, only love would have donned their reflection, if not for the fog of dark purple magic that outlined the Dark One's form….


	19. So this is Love?

Sullen charcoal painted the sky in the first tinges of dismal dawn over Cora's dark deplorable citadel. The morn was a dreary slate gray slanting in thorough the crimson tinted windows of the main hall, turning the color into a sickly red of crusted blood upon the black stone floors. Shadows still clung to the furthest corners of the ostentatious room, adumbrating the last of the trinkets and treasures upon their columns and in their glass cupboards.

Stray tendrils of thin, silvery smoke from the night blaze lazily swirled upwards through cold ashes and embers of the blackened hearth. The frigid draft stole the snaking streamers of gray away in their biting grip that whisked the smoke to the rafters. The scent of old timber and ash wafted uncomfortably through the chill air, filling the room with a cold dread of dying.

"Good morning Rumpel." Cora chirped pleasantly at ease to the monster that once shared her bed. Leaning back like a lazy cat in her seat, the witch vapidly cast her almond eyes about the room. Warning instincts of magic prickled against her skin like the cold air. Goosebumps thrilled against her flesh and made her hairs stand on end. The room looked barren enough, but her senses could long determine another user of magic drawing near before they appeared.

Rage filled the Rumpelstiltskin's black heart like a sea of boiling green bile as he stalked into the main hall. He seemed akin to a tiger easing in the sight of prey who held no hopes of safety or sanctuary. His eyes of night were pinioned upon her with nothing but malice in his depths. All adoration and lust that once gleamed in his eyes was as dead as the embers in the fireplace.

Clouds of thick damson smoke rolled under his black leather boots as her finally fully appeared. Purpose thundered with each of his steps over the rough stone. In his determination and rage he was transformed into a storm to be unleashed. He seemed akin to a gale, ready and willing to break upon the witch that was Cora and dash all she held dear no nothing.

Mouth a thin line, the monster glared darkly at the grinning witch. Anger of the other night still filled his heart, adding the kindling to his inferno. Flashes of the other night circled his vision with the utmost clarity. The blood, the bruises, the horror of seeing his Belle….

Stoically, shaking off the image, the fiend stopped a few paces from the long oaken table. His stomach churned in disgust even being so close to the malicious witch. Turning his body to the direction of the fireplace, the Dark One stared into the dead ashes. "We need to talk." He spat plainly his chilled words clipped as though the mere thought of talking to her once more was pure anathema. Hatred filled every crevice of his body for her, wishing to spit from his mouth like a fountain of overflowing lava burst from the very center of their world.

"About the slave girl no doubt." A sigh of abject boredom crossed her scarlet lips. Carelessness danced in her features with an insouciant grace. She seemed as though she couldn't care less about the occurrences of the past days. Still she treated Belle like some thing to be beaten and used.

Anger bristled in his blood like a dog piqued. The hair of the back of his neck rose on instinct. "You hurt her Cora." Clasping his wiry talons behind his back, he stared at the hearth, unwilling to bare her gaze a moment more. "I want nothing more to do with you. After what you've done you can continue with your plots alone."

Huffing, like a mother listening to an over dramatic child the witch waved a flippant hand, her wrist fully healed. "So you will simply abandon our plans all for this slave girl? Think on this Rumpel. This curse can be transformed into anything we want. I didn't want to simply bring down happiness, I want to rule this kingdom of misery I plan to erect. I wanted to rule with you." A wicked smile tilted her face. "Don't be so hasty to toss such a thing away."

Anger coiled like serpent scales over his black heart with her tempting words. Bile filled his throat, but as much as he was loathe to admit his logic, she had a point. They had worked so hard and there plots could gamer him endless deals he still craved. Besides her magic wouldn't effect him any. He could easily protect his castle and all his love held dear with but a counter spell woven into the darkness. He never cared about the realms much before, and even with Belle bringing light to his corrupted soul, he still didn't much find concern for others of the realms.

"The last thing I want is to be at your side, Cora. I no longer wish for this accord. I want one thing; free Belle." The magical monster spat simply. Though he still craved deals, Belle's freedom mattered much more. The sooner she was from under the heel of her slaver, the better.

Laughter, harsh and cruel escaped her lips. "She would hardly want that." The witch parried in an amused huff.

"She would hardly wish to be away from you, her tormenter, her slaver?" Rumpelstiltskin turned to her, his eyes hard as the black stone about them. His talons curled into fist at his side. If she thought to taunt his Belle even now….

A vile, cunning smile snaked to her face. "If I set her free the magic I endowed upon her fathers realms will crumble just like their happiness. The ogres will come and destroy all they've built and leave nothing neither standing nor any alive." She revealed nonchalantly. "The magic has been bound to that accord. She wouldn't be very thankful if I freed her and all she loved was trampled to ruin."

"Let me buy her debt then." The beast snarled heatedly, his wild sable eyes afire. Urgency thrilled and galloped through his blood. Anything to free Belle from her misery, he swore in his ancient mind. All that mattered was she be free from the witch who made her life agony.

Lips slightly pursed, the sorceress slyly perched a brow. "Her debt is her life, Rumpel." The sorceress explained lightly. "She will be trading one master for another until you find away to sever her debt."

That would take a little time, she knew, but fair enough to see her plan put in motion. If all things went well, they could even coincide, adding more pain to what was to come for their humiliation of her.

"Far better me than you." The magical monster spat acidly. Taking a step to the table, he pointed a wiry finger at his brown vest. "At least I will treat her like a human being. At least I won't be cruel to her."

Broken laughter erupted from her mouth at his exclamation. He was almost truly hilarious. He had played many parts, but acting the chivalrous love smitten fool was never one. "I never figured you one to be a love sick puppy, Rumpel. All because this chit of a slave girl has offered you her attentions. Were you so desperate to be patted on the head and be told you were a good monster?"

Mirth sobering, her pallid face grew into the half hearted seriousness once more. Oh this was fun, to see him so afire for his slave girl, not realizing every words he spoke was in vain. Placing a hand under her chin, she canted her head slightly to the left. "Though this has me curious. What _are _you willing to give to buy her? Can you put a price on your love?"

"Whatever the price to take her from you." He spat lowly, his voice full of hate. Staring at her now his eyes were open to the malice brewing behind the lovely face and soft words. Behind the painted face and cunning was an ugly hag moving the puppet strings of beautiful flesh. Disgust and nausea roiled in his stomach at the sight of her. How could he have bedded such a venomous serpent filled with the blood of bile and the heart of a cactus?

"Your part of the magic." Cora stated her price flatly, forgoing the games usually played in bartering. Neither had time for such, nor, she guessed, would he have played such a match with his so called love involved. "I still wish for my plans to come to fruition. I won't have them trampled because you've fallen for some slave. Swear to do your part and the girl is yours at this moment."

Nodding his head, the fiend accepted her terms. His face was a grimace as he stared into the eyes of his former lover. The price was heavy, but not unreasonable. Not a hint of guilt strayed into his black heart. Better the realms fall than his Belle be enthralled to such a hag. "A deal then."

"Before the deal is struck, Rumpel remember this." The witch's voice softened into a low hiss, her ruby lips a serpents grin. "Love is weakness. This girl can offer you nothing but a step down. When the time comes Rumpel, you'll know the grievous error you've made. You should have stayed with me, Rumpel; we're far to much alike to be good for anyone else."

The Dark One's sable eyes narrowed upon the witch. His lips were a thin, unbreakable line, unwilling to answer her or parry another word. She couldn't be right. What he felt for Belle denied every poisonous word she spat.

"I'll summon her then." The witch crooned, her lips a victorious ruby crescent. Clapping her hands in two quick motions, the witch beckoned the girl. Her almond eyes never left the glaring fiend as they battled with their gazes. He didn't believe her now of course, but he would.

In their tumult of hatred and carelessness, a door creaked to their left ending the wordless combat.

A soft thump of the door and the scuffling of feet echoed about the room as Belle scurried forward. Padding softly into the room, head bowed, the beauty shuffled tenuously towards her captor. Cora had not summoned her in two days. Why now, she pondered warily.

"You called mistress?" The enslaved Belle queried tremulously. Dread flipped in her heart as she tried to look at the floor and not at the two wizards. Cora still held her debt no matter what Rumpel said.

Almond eyes falling to the girl who entered, the witch frowned. Things were going to plan, but seeing the girl she had lost out to, a slave no less, writhed unpleasantly in her vile husk of a heart. "Congratulations slave. Rumpel has brought your life debt. You are now his."

Amazement thrilled through the beauty's blood with the unexpected words of emancipation. Her head spun in a tilt O' whirl at the thought of sudden freedom from her tormentor. Of course she believed Rumpel to keep his word, but so soon! Jerking her head up, wonder danced in her cerulean orbs. Did she truly mean she was no longer her mistress?

Relieved by her presence the fiend glided towards the beauty. Softness danced upon his gray-gold features with a loving smile. No matter the cost he saved her from her misery and that was all that mattered.

Standing behind her, the Dark One placed a gray-gold hand on her left shoulder, every inch the protector she claimed him to be. His eyes were glossy black marble aimed towards the witch. "While we remain here I expect Belle to be treated with courtesy. You won't lay a hand on her. She will be free to go anywhere she pleases. So long as we are here she will sleep in a room on the second floor, not the dungeon. If I catch you tormenting her in any way…." He let the threat go unsaid but the power behind his word spoke for themselves.

If she cast one more cruelty upon his love there wouldn't be enough of her for her pet crow to peck at! He would make her a smear on her castle and leave it there till the end of all creation.

"Of course Rumpel." Cora replied softly.

Ice filled her eyes as her gaze drifted to the girl who stared back, no longer the beaten slave. For a moment the beauty held her gaze before her eyes fell from her cruel former mistress. Old habits died extremely hard.

A frigid smile painted Cora's lips towards the woman, knowing there was a bit of the girl that still feared her. "Of course." She echoed, her words soft with haughty amusement.

Cutting his gaze from the vile sorceress, the Dark One stared down at his love. "Let's go, Belle." His tender voice belayed the rage he felt a mere heartbeat ago.

Nodding numbly, the beauty turned. Strange disbelief coupled together in her heart like whispers of happiness. Just like that she was free from the cruel mistress who owned her for 5 long, grueling years?

"Is it true Rumpel?" Belle inquired nervously as they disappeared from the main hall. Her hands shook as she walked beside him down the dark corridors that offered so much dread to her existence. Hope and disbelief etched her sapphire eyes. "Am I free from her? Truly?"

Love bloomed over the abject hate he felt for Cora. Belle could banish any darkness he felt stewing within. A smile wove upon his gray-gold face. She seemed like a child given a gift she could not fathom.

Taking her into a second room ordained for her, the Dark One gently pulled her inside. The room was a cheery thing taken from the morbid castle and shed of the dour aura Cora painted about her keep. Bright sky blue curtains draped the windows banished from the bloody panes. Soft gray light from an overcast sky drifted in from the breaks in the blue drapes. The bed, her first in five years, was soft with snowy gryphon down and simple but soft cotton sheets of blue below a thick cover to ward off the night chills that plagued the castle so.

Staring about in awe, the beauty let her surroundings soak in. She would have been content with a cot somewhere. The last thing had been expecting was something so lovely in the very belly of her mistress', no, her former mistress' keep.

Drifting to the bed as though led by an invisible cord, the beauty flopped down on the mattress. A giggle leapt from her mouth as she let the feathers buoy her. Propping up on her elbows, Belle motioned to her love.

"Well?" His smile went from ear to ear.

He arched a brow, confused. Certainly he was content enough to stand a respectful distance away and admire her. "Well what, my Belle?"

"This is the first time I've slept in a real bed for five years." She laid her head down on the fluffy pillows. "The first thing I'm going to do is take a nap."

Ducking his head, the fiend turned away. "I'll leave you to your napping then." Jesting echoed in his voice.

"Rumpel." Belle's voice lured him to freeze. Not putting her head up she sighed in pleasant contentment. "I meant for you to join me."

Red flushed the Dark One's scaled cheeks. She wanted him so close even for a simple nap? "I'd…" Breathing in deep he pushed his cowardice away. "I'd be honored."

Slipping into the bed with the beauty the Dark One stared at his love. Her azure yes gleamed like crystals. Her dark amber hair molded against her face and danced in the gray light that streamed through the thin chinks in the drapes.

How could such beauty call him love, he pondered, truly at a loss. Perhaps some mysteries were not even for he to discover.

Laying down beside her, the fiend tenuously reached out for her. Wrapping the beauty in his arms, the beast pulled her close. Heart crashing crazily in his chest, his body felt tense as she settled in his grasp. A sigh eased from his mouth as he made herself comfortable. She was safe. That was all that mattered.

Closing his eyes slowly, the Dark One yawned once before sleepiness overtook them both.

~8~8~

Twilight lorded the sky when beauty and beast awoke. The day had passed them by, lost in their enchanted slumber of one another's arms. They had slept the day away only waking in intervals to chat quietly before falling into the realm of sleep once more.

Wriggling awake, Belle yawned politely behind her hand. "I've never slept so good." She admitted with a dozy smile.

"I can't recall a sounder sleep in all my days." Rumpelstiltskin agreed, his voice carrying traces of the imp. Looking back, he could not even recall a day that came close.

Snuggling in his grasp, the beauty looked at the last bit of light disappear. "So I was wondering you know. The library is on the second floor. I was never allowed much time there only to clean. Do you think I may spend time there tomorrow?" She asked tenuously.

Wrapping his skinny arms about her, the Dark One held her tight. A soft giggle escaped his mouth. "You have no need to ask permission of me Belle. You may do what you wish. I see a free woman on the in and out."

Soft laughter bubbled from her smiling lips. "Are you not my master?" She jested. "Doesn't seem you're doing a very good job."

"You aren't a slave to me Belle. I will never consider you such." A faint laugh fell from his lips. Gently brushing the side of her face with his fingertips, the Dark One smiled lovingly to the woman that owned his heart. "If there is anyone enslaved then surely it is I to you."

A soft smile traced her lips in a sleepy grin. "If that's so then let's leave this place. Let's turn away and never look back here." While she was grateful to him, she didn't understand why they were still there.

"We only have to stay a little while longer." He stroked her cheek, his thumb tracing her skin. Part of him wished to tell her about the deal, but she would be against that. Better she not know. "And when this is all over we'll leave and never be reminded of this foul place and what it represented. I will find a way to end your debt so you can be truly free and then… then who knows."

Hugging his neck, the beauty held the wiry fiend close. How could one person be so kind? "I'm so glad." She whispered, her tears tipping from her closed lids. "I'm so glad I can be with you."

Slowly, as though controlled by some unseen hand, the beauty lifted her face to his. This time no uncertainty grabbed the strings of her heart to yank her back. No fear of being rebuffed, no trepidation only love.

Hands upon his gray-gold cheeks, the beauty inclined her head to him. The darkness of the room did little to hide the want in her eyes nor in his. Pressing her lips to his own, the beauty captured his mouth in a soft kiss. The kiss was a chaste one, but a leap that scaled all boundaries before.

Light pulsed from her body as her lips finally melded with his. Her lush, warm lips tenuously searched his mouth with exploratory rapture. Eyes closed she lost herself in the windmill that was his love. His kiss was everything she hoped in her dreams and more. Despite his looks they were soft and warm and full with the passion once locked behind his heart. There was a sourness to his kiss, but only helped in brining out the sweetness as well.

Power, greater than his own struck the Dark One as his lips felt hers. Her silken mouth, ripe and sweet as the ambrosia form the heavens danced over his mouth in the vibrant of tastes. Her kiss was like a flood raging through his mouth and down his heart, washing away the darkness that clung to his soul. Ever touch was a flaming brand scouring the shadows and the filth away. For the first time in centuries he felt loved. He felt like a man.

An ordinary man….

"What's happening?" The fiend pulled away from the kiss. The tingle of her lips spread like wildfire about his body. His head swam in dizziness as the darkness wrestled in his heart. Somewhere something vile warned him there was something amiss.

"I don't know." Belle gasped as she looked into his eyes. Amazed, her azure orbits studied his face. Slowly the scaled texture of his skin was fading. Elation filled her heart in dizzying jubilation. Did she dare dream? "Rumpel... I think you're becoming human!"

Human. The word stilled the fiend's heart.

No!

To become human meant taking the mantle of cripple. To become human meant to be the coward who couldn't protect his precious boy.

To become human meant the would lose the magic.

Leaping to his feet the Dark One shook his head. To lose his magic. He could do many things, but that was not one he planned anywhere near the future. Magic was his lifeblood. Magic made him who he was, the strong. Magic kept him safe and gave him all he could ever desire.

Abruptly a fearful though struck his heart. A lance of cowardice stabbed at his soul nearly making him wince. Did being with Belle mean losing his magic?

"This must mean something." She reasoned, her voice pleading. "It must mean…."

In an instant his body jerked back from the bed. His eye looked upon her as though she were a venomous snake found in his bed. The kiss so ripe and lovely was severed in a tear of darkness.

Wiping at his lips, the Dark One stared at her in the last rays of light. Oh indeed the unfettering of magic did mean something. The human in place of the beast meant something as well. Everything meant Cora had been right. All things came with a price. Even love.

A hiss spewed darkly from the beast's mouth with the thought. Clutching the sides of his head the Dark One danced away from the beauty. His black nailed fingers dug mercilessly into his scalp on the cusp of shedding blood. What a fool he was!

"It means the loss of my power!" He roared, her words brimming with rage. "Loving you means losing magic!"

Alarm surged through the beauty at his outcry as she slid from the bed. Was magic so important? Did the claws of his power burrow so deep to keep him grounded?

"Rumpel." Soft pleading for reason fringed her voice. "I don't know what's happened, but please we can get through this."

Shaking his head the beast let his hands drop. Cold rage mingled with the craven fires of dread sparkled in his ebony eyes. "Oh no." He parried his voice soft and biting. "We can't."

If being with her meant the surrender of his power, the very darkness that made him the Dark One, then he wished for none of her love. None. Magic or his love. Darkness or light. That was the choice put before him.

"Don't say such things." Hot tears filled her eyes. Pain clawed at her heart with the shunning of her love.

Holding out a hand he paused her before another word could leave her mouth. His sable eyes glared at her the same way he glared at his former lover. Like Cora she was dangerous, only much more so. Cora's affections wouldn't leave him a bitter cripple, limping about on a stick!

Darkness swirled in his heart, taking thrall of him all. "Stay away." He hissed. Snapping his gray-gold talons the fiend disappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving his love alone.

Astounded by the change the beauty dropped to the bed. Numb disbelief danced her eyes dimmed by the fading light. How could he say such things? How could he covet his power so much as to swipe away all he felt?

Putting her head down, the beauty's shoulders heaved in quiet sobs as she let the tears roll down her cheeks.

~8~8~

A pleasant hum sang softly from Cora's mouth as she primly sat in front of her glass topped vanity. Multitudes of vibrantly colored amphora's of blue and plum and green hoarded the edges of her gilded treasure. Boxes and bottles of kohl and rouges and perfumes and other implements from as far as Agrabah, were all collected for her use to bring details to her charms.

Taking down her face was one of the last things she did in the day after the deals were struck and the masks could come off. Patting a white wet cloth across her face she wiped away the blush and the coral she used upon her pallid visage. She wasn't particularly vain about her image, but she adored keeping up her appearance. At least putting on her face gave her something to do in the long days and longer nights.

Magic filled the air as Cora dabbed the last smear of the rouge from her face. Fighting a smile, her eyes flickered up to the three mirrors. The image of the Dark One, black and vile as she had ever seen stared back at her. His weed like body heaved as though he had battled an entire legion of ogres.

Her heart paused a beat to see him such. This was not a Dark One she knew, desperate and hungry for evil and the malice that owned their hearts. Her breath stole from her mouth in a hush, enraptured in his darkness.

In an instant, the Dark One was upon her. His strong hands snatched her like a found treasure and swept her up from her vanity in a whirl. Stray stoppers from uncorked glass bottles rolled to the floor and one bottle toppled spilling a black ink upon the crystal glass vanity.

Tossing her unto the lavish bed, the fiend followed in short order. "You were right." Huskiness forged his voice with the dark confession. Slipping unto the plush mattress, his eyes pinioned upon Cora's. This was where the magic said he belonged.

Her almond eyes stared at him lustfully. Not the faintest hint of surprised danced in her eyes nor malice. Her lips, pale from her dismissing of her paints curved into a seductress grin that promised him the sweet comforts of bitterest darkness.

He didn't need true love, the darkness assured the fiend in cajoling whispers that beckoned him to the witch's charms. Enthralled to the whispers, his body crawled over Cora's.

His mouth found her bare skin and he kissed the pale flesh, making ever part of her his. Every kiss banished the light of Belle's one kiss away. His heart plummeted into darkness as he made ready for his dark lover. He needed magic and the blackness to consume him. How he wished to drown in the safety of his dark magic's!

Wrapping her tight in his arms, the fiends kissed her deeply upon her pale pink lips. Her mouth tasted like hemlock, but he lost himself in the bile of her kiss. Better poison and remain in power that sweetness and be unfettered from his magic.

A lascivious chuckle escaped the witch's throat as he lavished her neck with hard bites and bit at the lobe of her ears. Tossing her head back, she allowed his mouth and teeth greater access to plunder his pale skin and caress her body. Her spell worn hands ran along his thin back holding him tight, like a serpent with a mouse in their coils. Such a simple frightened fool he was.

Smiling, her glossy ruby lips neared his ear as she crooned. "Welcome back, Rumpel. You knew I was right. How fine a thing to see you come to your senses. Back where you belong."

Yes, he wished to agree with all the darkness in his heart; where he belonged. The words lay on the tip of his tongue but refused to pass. Trepidation speared the blackness of his soul, making his evil furl back. She was right, wasn't she…?

Retreating from his hungry kisses, the fiend stared down into her eyes. Her cunning almond orbs danced with mischief, offering blackness and evil in her embrace. Normally, he was aroused, even comforted by such a look, but now… now he felt his skin crawl. Spiders danced over his flesh in a skittering dance. His stomach turned to see her lying beneath him, waiting for his attentions, relishing in his evil and misery.

She was no Belle, whose smiles purified his heart, and the darkness warranted no comforts like her laugh and touch. Laying in her arms he felt cold and more alone than ever before. The magic would not comfort him. Her arms would not make him feel at peace and loved.

Only Belle.

"No." He bit out. Forcing himself away from the witch he staggered to his feet. He couldn't lay with her again. Not after telling Belle what he felt for her. That would have broken something sacred her shared with her. Magic or not he couldn't let her gift fall away. She had given him her love and he could not go and sully her ardor because of his want of magic.

Shaking his head softly her turned away from her, disgusted at what he saw. "You aren't right. I just… I just…."

Heart torn, the Dark One snapped his fingers. Calling his magic, the fiend disappeared in a cloud of purple fog. He had to get out of the castle, he knew, as the mist enveloped him. He had to think.

Lying on her now ruffled bed, the witch curled a lock of dark hair around her finger and smiled at the last place the Dark One stood. Her body tingled all about with the last remnants of his darkness, but she pushed the feeling aside like an old memory.

Such a thing as his coming to her was unexpected, but would have uses in the future. At least now he was solidified in his love for his slave girl by denying himself his darker passions, making her plots all the more hurtful when they struck.


	20. No

Love or magic. The two choices tugged remorselessly at the Dark One's insipid thoughts as he walked through the peaceful woodland glade. Love or magic. Two sides of the same coin. Power or Belle? Darkness or light? Those were the questions that assailed his thoughts and none wrought any answers to his weary soul.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed a heavy curse as the thoughts swirled through his ancient mind. His lips were traced into a thoughtful, melancholy frown as the contemplation whisked by in a tumultuous blur. How did such occurrences always happen to him! For once in a very long time he could be happy, only to have his happiness put with a clause that threatened what he held most dear.

Fate always seemed to leave another cunning, clandestine trap in his path awaiting to spring and snag him and bar him away from his happiness right at his very fingertips. He felt like man lost is a cave with the maw in his sight only for his leg to be caught in the fanged jaws of his own beastliness. Reaching and reaching, his hand came just to the soft light before he could extend no further and was left again in his darkness as evil pulled him back into the belly of the cave to devour him.

Power brought him the loss of his son, and that same darkness would lose him…. No, he tossed his head viscously at the deplorable thought. He refused to think of that. One he loved, his dearest son, was already out of his reach. Would he lose his precious love as well?

Leaves rustled under his step and spare twigs snapped beneath his black boots as he stomped doggedly through the woods of Sherwood Forrest. Glorious morning sun slanted through the misty fog of the sleeping trees alighting the mist in golden brilliance. Vapors rose from the land to add to the most and dew the flora and fauna still alive. Deer munched upon the last green springs and the robins argued in their pretty tongue. Peaceful silence laid like a thick blanket upon the forest, imbuing all with the restfulness of winters coming.

Dissatisfaction oozed through the Dark One's veins like sludgy, brackish marsh water as he studiously wove through the age old trunks of beech and oaks and elms. The trees were naked of their persons and slept until the dawning of spring rattled them awake to spread their canopies of green once more. His senses disregarded the beauteous morn, completely enraptured in his own troubles. He only came to the woods because that was where he felt the first tug of emotion for the beauty.

Basking in the silence of winters waxing near, the Dark One let the deathliness engulf him. The silence was a soothing unguent to his brain, cooling his panicked fervor of thoughts that wracked him like a strangling hand, and allowed him to breath.

If only he could be like the winter about to assail the realms, cold and unerring and harsh, he thought wistfully to himself as he basked in the barren woods and the first sharp breaths of the cold months. Perching his head up, the fiend leaned against a glorious fir and closed his sable eyes in the chill quiet. For a long time he had been like the hoary breath of the snows, he knew, until Belle.

A small, lugubrious smile twitched sporadically to his scaled face as the name of his love came to his mind. Like a strong ray of light in the feeble darkness, she always brought something good to his heart no matter what dour master enthralled him.

Belle was the spring, soft and warm, offering the tepid breath of life to the cold and desolate lands of his heart. She banished frost and brought forth the buds and all the living things asleep and hidden in the snows banks. She was wonderful and he could have had that wonder. Her majesty was his for the caring and loving. She had given herself freely to him, happily bringing her spring over the frosts of his heart.

"No." Rumpelstiltskin fiercely snarled to himself. The smile faded from his features like a warm memory suddenly dashed by the cold winds of melancholy. Cold rage at himself glinted sparks in his dark eyes. "No you can't have her. She gave you love and you tossed her ardor back. You don't deserve her."

Hanging his head as though scolded by his own anger, the fiends stared at his hands. The talons twitched and flexed sporadically, readying to cast magic from their black nailed tips or simply shred with the endowed power oozing through his sinew. Such power laid in his hand, demanding to be used, itching under his flesh like plague, but what did such matter when he had no one to use the power for?

Power did not bring him happiness, he knew infinitely well. Bitterness welled in his throat at the all too true though. Deals brought him some stray granules of satisfaction, but not even that brought true glee to his heart. The only time he could remember happiness was holding his Bae, his leg still throbbing and in peril of infection, and being close to his Belle.

Those brought him happiness of the heart. Those were memories he cherished and the yearned to have again, not the deplorable power that coursed through his veins.

Still, a grimace molded upon his ugly features, he craved power. Power was his ale, his vice, his master that controlled him. Curling his claws into fists he laid them back to his side. Magic raced through his black blood, essentially entwined into the very core of his being. For centuries magic was who he was. He simply couldn't banish his power and become Hobblefoot the coward again.

And besides, darkness whispered venom into his torn and bleeding mass of heart, he had already shunned his Belle. She wouldn't take him back after what he had done to her. No one would do such an insane thing after daring to love him once and rue disaster. If she could stomach him once, after his blatant denial of that affection, surely she would sever what little she felt for him.

But she had saved him, he knew, his soul daring to face the blackness to fight against the wheedling poison. She brought out a part of him long thought dead. He did love her, with all his beastly heart, but after what he had done….

Clenching his jaw, the fiend banished the lies of the darkness piercing his heart with poisoned daggers. That was how the Dark One before Belle would think. He would not find excuses or run to covet his power like an old miser with a hoard of coins. He would confront her and assure her his love was genuine. He would fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness for the churlish, crass words of a coward that babbled past his lips. Even if she shunned him he would explain everything to her.

He had been selfish, he realized with the utmost shame. He loved Belle. No amount of darkness could measure an inkling to that joy. And he would prove his love. By the darkness itself he would prove it!

Snapping his fingers, the Dark One disappeared from the forest, leaving his insecurity and doubt behind like the first snows fall.

~8~8~

Belle paced vapidly back and forth in the room the Dark One had allotted her. Once a place of gladness, the chamber seemed as dour as the rest of the dreaded citadel of her former mistress. No joy entered her heart from the refuge and no relief bespelled her soul.

Sadness and contemplative worry marred her beautiful visage as she padded back and forth. The entire days nap, once a blessing was now nothing more than a curse to her active mind. All the night she had stayed up her eyes either filled with tears or fears. What was happening to her love?

When he had began to lose his magic, he had snapped away from her as though she were diseased. There had been fear and anger and worry dancing in his sable depths that hid away the love he felt down past the depths of his blackness. He had become, cold and harsh and inwardly drawn like a dragon protecting its cache. He snapped upon her and curled tighter about his vaunted power until he looked like the Dark One that arrived when Cora drew him into her citadel.

He did love her, she knew with what ray of light she could scrounge. Oh yes, even in his shift from loving protector to surviving fiend, he still loved her. That she could see with all her heart. That was what had caused him to react so. But would he let that love be locked away in a sarcophagus formed by the evil hands of the willful magic and the darkness gnarled in a dastardly root about his very heart?

Tears stung the beauty's azure eyes with the thought. Why wouldn't he let the evil in him reign against the paltry affections of love? So long had he been the Dark One mired in the slough of evil and power and magic, why would he choose her, a former slave who could offer him nothing?

Pain jabbed Belle's heart like a blade striking her very soul at the all too true thoughts. What did she offer him? Only love, not power or magic, just herself. Sliding down to the edge of the soft bed, the beauty drooped her head in her hands. Of course he wouldn't give up the magic. Why would she dare even hope otherwise?

"Belle." The Dark One muttered her name like a long forgotten prayer as he appeared in their hideaway. Clouds of dark amethyst rolled over the floor like boiling fog coaxed up from the black stone as he manifested in the room.

Light from the afternoon sun glinted over his skin like gold. His flesh twinkled like flecks from a river bed were embedded in the skin. His body reeked of magic and lingered on every breath he took like some drunkard come home from a night of laying waste to kegs.

Belle's heart sank as the flows of magic assailed her in jarring lashes. Darkness slithered about him and struck at her like daggers seeking to pierce her already wounded heart. Tendril of his intangible power coiled about her aorta and squeezed until she felt as though her heart would burst from the injustice of it all.

Never had she sensed of seen such magic about him. Surely he had made some choice and cast her love away in favor of his vaunted powers. Certainly he meant to deny his love and cast her off, a liability he could ill afford where his magic's were concerned.

Looking at the woman who owned his heart, the fiend felt his body tremble in awe of her. The weight of his cowardice piled upon his shoulders to a point he nearly felt his body bend in agony. Shame blotted his heart like a stain over the bit of light she managed to coax to his soul. Such a beautiful creatures, inside and out, and he had shunned her in a panic of his power.

He wasn't good enough for her, he knew in the very depths of his ill heart. Lugubrious intent filled him in every corner of his body as he lounged in her loveliness. How could a beast such as he ever be worthy of a beauty such as she?

The love she gave he had tossed away all in the name of power. Surely he must have dashed his chances to cherish what affection she could stomach to give him. After what he had done, certainly she must have known he wasn't worthy enough of her love. There were better men out there. One's that would treat her like a queen and not shun her love for their power and selfishness.

If he had lost her love, he supposed broken heartedly, his soul weeping. But at least he could afford her explanation.

"Belle I'm sorry." Rumpelstiltskin choked out from the lump of shame lodged like a boulder in his throat. Padding forwards to her, the Dark One stared into her azure eyes. Hurt and pain and confusion danced in those orbs he found so alluring. Like Cora, he had hurt her, and that was unforgivable in every way.

His bottom lips quivered as he neared her. What a stupid fool he was, tossing away her ardor for nothing but clouds. How could he have done such a terrible deed? What kind of creature was he? Even monster did not act such.

"Belle." Her name came out an apologetic prayer. Falling shamefully to his knees, the Dark One bowed his head to her. Coward that he was he couldn't even look at her after what he'd done.

Being so close dredged him in the acid of shame. He wallowed in guilt and the gnawing cowardice that bit away at his soul. In his bid for having his power back, he raced wantonly into the malicious grasp of Cora who was always ready to bring forth the blackest part of his soul.

At the vastly disgusting thought, the Dark One wriggled unpleasantly. He felt filthy after lying with her again. There was an invisible grim coating his skin that he felt as though a thousand baths could not remove. He was not even worthy to be so close to his love with the lingering aroma of dark magic of the cruel Cora still on his skin.

Hot, scalding tears brooked down Belle's milky cheek in the familiar tributaries from the night. What once she thought would be a cold rejecting was not. He came to her like a man burdened with shame over some irreconcilable deed. But what shame, she wished to scream! He had nothing to be ashamed of. He had vices, he had troubles, and hurdles to over come. Those were all the marks of the man that may have come out with the disastrous kiss. He may have jerked away from the kiss but a man still he was.

Fighting back her tears, the beauty grinned above him. Her work weary fingers threaded through his dirty brown tresses as though remembering him before the kiss. "Rumpel." His name burbled out from her relief and anguish. At least he was there. At least he was real, even if he chose to cut their ties. "What's wrong Rumpel? Tell me please."

Taken in rapture by her soft touch the Dark One leaned against her. His scaled forehead lay against her thigh as he sat there at her feet. Heart awash with emotion he confessed like a child to her all the memories and pasts of his doings and all his beastliness.

"Belle. I have always been a coward." His voice choked out the confession aloud. Gorge rose like boiling bile to his throat as the words left his tongue. Long had he denied cowardice, but to her he would deny what truths were etched upon his black heart. "When I was just a man I crippled myself to be given leave from war and be with my son. When I came by the power I let this magic take hold over my heart. I lost my son to keep this power of mine all because I couldn't give this damned magic up. Behind this Dark One is a cur that let his son go for magic." He admitted shamefully.

"When you kissed me I felt those fears rise again in a wave I thought long forgotten. I love you, I do, but I am a coward. A filthy, lying, son-less coward." A sob of his humiliation and same erupted past his lips. "Perhaps what happened was the best to show you what type of… thing I am." He spat deprecatingly. "I didn't deserve your love. I don't deserve _anything _from you. But I wanted you to know why the coward in me rose up. To love you was to deny my darkness. I won't deny I am dark, but neither will I deny I love you."

Involuntarily every muscle in his being tightened as his words ended. Dread clutched piercing iron talons about his already bleeding heart. Surely now would come the sorrowful reprimand that her love was already gone from her heart. There would be regret in her voice, but she would not afforded him her affections again. Why would any risk such hurt again or wish to be with an admitted coward? Milah certainly hadn't and his son had called him a coward before they were parted.

The Dark One flinched as she moved. Part of him thoroughly expected her to get up and walk away from him, not wishing to be near such a creature with such a vile past. Abruptly he felt a hand placed upon his shoulder. Looking up, he found no sorrow but basked in her soft, forgiving smile.

Only love danced in her bejeweled orbits of blue. Acceptance and tenderness radiated like the dawn from her, beating back the whispering blackness of his heart. Truly she was the light to his eternal night.

Kneeling, the beauty placed her hand in his. Forgiveness sparkled in her sapphire orbs as she stared him in the eye. "My love hasn't gone anywhere, Rumpel." A soft, watery laugh fled her lips. "We all have are breaking points. We all make mistakes and have regrets. I couldn't stop loving you even if I tried." Her hands strode his hair lovingly. "We will find away to get through this. We'll figure out something."

"How can you forgive me so?" Rumpelstiltskin inquired in a soft breath. Head bowed, he dared not stare upon his love with the light of one who thought themselves forever bereft of love again. How could she give something that he didn't deserve?

Tears of happiness brimmed in her depths. "I love you, silly man. You came back to me. You were willing to be the man on the inside that you are on the inside." A hint of sadness flared across her face. "It will be a long, hard road for us, but this is proof things will work out in the end. I don't doubt our love is strong. We just need to let it grow."

"Yes." He agreed and bobbed his head. "And the first thing we'll do is leave this place, Belle." A sturdy smile came to his lips. No more would he allow himself to be in a sea of the darkest magic. No more did he wish to be reminded of the dastardly power or the one who would love to see his love stifled. "I'm sick of this place and the magic here. We're leaving this day. Ready yourself and meet me in the main hall. I have a bit of business to discuss with Cora and then we will be gone."

~8~8~

Almost ready now, Cora remarked pleasantly in her mind as she glided about her gilded room. Waltzing to her trio of mirrors from her vanity, the witch stared at her beautiful reflection.

The woman on the inside crowed with delight, but the woman on the out was a different matter. Her paints were cast away leaving her with a face of the woman centuries before desperately in over her head. Her normal glossy ruby smile was replaced with a pale pink frown of concern. Strands of her hair sat just a touch out of place, unnoticeable to many, but not to the perceptive Rumpelstiltskin.

She certainly did look the part. Her body was barren from jewelry, all save a small ring upon the fourth fingers on her left hand. A small nine faceted ruby glittered in the setting upon the golden band crafted into miniscule dragon scales.

Malifcent's centuries old vile magic's swarmed energetically through the ring but she had to take the dragon's word for such powers at work. The magic was so subtle even the wearer couldn't feel the effects but the serpentine witch assured her the magic would work even on the Dark One when the time came.

A small smile twitched her insipid lips as the name came to her mind. Magic hummed through the air in the expectation of arrival.

Just in time.

"I'm leaving and I wish to rearrange our deal." Rumpelstiltskin spat flatly as he blinked into life into Cora's ostentatious chambers. Resolution hemmed the fiends words as stood to the side of the witch. His lips were a thing gray line and his black eyes danced with challenging. Too long had he been the devious fiend. He needed to show his Belle he could be a good man, and good men didn't try to plunge the realms into misery.

Staring at the glass of her vanity, the witch did not look his way. Gathering her emotions she forced her glee inwardly to disappear. Now would be the most important performance in a very long while.

Worry marred her plain face as she gazed into the mirror. "You can't-." She began but he interrupted.

"I can't?" He huffed mirthlessly, his tone dark with unhidden, intoned threat. "Oh Dearie believe me, I can. I want to no longer be accomplice to this scheme. Nothing is worth disappointing my Belle. I want to find a way to stymie my magic not turn it to evil. I lost one I love. I will not lose her."

The witch shook her head, her dark locks becoming more awry. "No I mean you can't leave, Rumpel -" Desperation crowded her voice, tinged by fear.

"I can do anything!" He roared and spread his arms wide. "For the first time I feel free. I have Belle at my side and that is worth more to me than you ever will be."

"Rumpel-."

"I don't care about my power any more and I don't care about you!" The beast roared to the calm witch his eyes ablaze. "I will go with her. I will have a life with her! If I break my curse then I shall. She is worth more to me than any magic. She is worth more to me than anything."

"Rumpel." Cora inflected his name softy for the third time still not looking in his direction. Her ringed hand trembled slightly as she brought it up to her chest. Spell worn fingertips curled over the neckline of her dress, an old habit of worry she held before she mastered magic.

A snarl wrench from his lips. "What?" His muscled tensed and magic burned in his blood ready for any attack.

Confusion wrinkled his gray-gold features as no attack assailed his weedy figure. What did she want? Why wasn't she furious?

Turning to him for the first time, the witch let the silence speak. Her almond eyes danced with the answer.

Horror filled the Dark One as the sudden realization struck him like a blow to the head. Even with Cora silent he knew what words she wished to speak but couldn't. They had been to long together not to know one another well.

He knew the look in her eyes.

"No." He tossed his head, his words low with disbelief. Magic flared out to detect a lie, but to his horror he could not; only truth, the terrible truth. "No."

~8~8~

Excitement thrilled through Belle as she waited for her love. The main hall, once a place of endless hours of labor, seemed different knowing she was not to call the dreadful place prison any longer. Everything seemed foreign in nature as though leaving from a nightmare. And she was, she knew gladly, her heart singing, she was leaving from a nightmare that had turned into a dream.

Standing at the threshold of the door that led into the vestibule and then to the doors that opened to freedom, the beauty leaned against a black column. The coldness barely touched her flesh as she awaited expectantly with what few treasures she had.

Cora had given her nothing so she had nothing to take with her. Not that she wished to take much with her. Only bad memories would come with many things from her citadel. The only things she took was the chipped tea cup and his wine rose.

Holding the trinkets in both hands, the beauty clutched the frailer cup close. In her mind, Cora lost ownership of the cup when she chipped it. Rumpelstiltskin wanted the cup and it was his just as the wine rose was hers.

Abruptly, magic cut through her thoughts ripping her away from thoughts of the cup. A smile alit her face at the familiar tingling if magic from the Dark One. Over the months she had grown to adore the tell tale signs of his magic and now was no exception.

Meeting his eyes, laughter of her lips, the beauty instantly knew something was amiss. A numb frown molded his lips and his eyes were hallow.

Alarm and confusion crinkled her face as the laughter died before it even had a chance to break free. Why was he so despondent, she wondered in confusion. This was to be their happiest moment with all their trouble, their doubts, left behind.

In the past hour both there souls were swept clear of secrets and shames. He revoked his words of denial of his love and they were set to be happy.

So what was wrong?

"Has something happened?" Uncertainty crept in the borders of her voice. Her heart pulsed with a dreaded knowing. He would never be so despondent unless something terrible occurred.

Sorrow filled his black orbs as he took a numb step towards his love. Pain filled his features as he swallowed down agony and stated simply, "Cora's pregnant."


	21. Cruel Fate

Pregnant.

The word shocked the beauty's once exuberant senses like a lash of red lightening. Pain shot through Belle's heart like clumps of jagged needles frilled through her veins. Her face paled with the disastrous word that echoed throughout her skull. Her world and all the happiness therein ground to a decided halt. Breath froze in her lungs and hope died amidst the last lingering fog in her soul. Cora was with child?

"Pregnant." Belle echoed in abject disbelief, the words coming out almost like a question but much more a statement of tragedy. Astonishment gleamed like sapphire in her bright eyes as she searched him. She knew the Dark One and her former mistress were lovers, but didn't they hold magic's to ensure such a thing never occurred? "After all this time… how is she finally with child?"

The Dark One threw his hands up in lugubrious despair. "Only fate knows." He breathed sorrowfully. "When I first met her she wasn't able to be with child. All this time I thought she was barren."

In their first months together they had tried so hard to conceive even though he sensed her bereft womb. The child that forged their deal was to have been his instead of some noble born whelp with a princely sire. That plot had never played out properly in their time, but now fickle lady fate seemed to wish to grant them a little one.

The timing wasn't lost upon him, but that didn't explain how she wasn't lying and how he could sense the faintest of heartbeats when he employed magic to listen. No matter how small the life, he could always detect a being and the child was as there as he was. In every aspect Cora was pregnant and there wasn't any evidence to see her conception was some trick!

Racing a hand through his straggly brown mane, a low cruse let forth from his direly frowning lips. How could his life be so cruel to them? Did his magic still demand to be paid for the powers he wielded? Was his happiness and love the price of power? Finally he made his peace with his Belle only to be set forth with another trial that denied him the happiness he sought.

It wasn't fair. The words sounded childish, to the beast but they were true. It wasn't fair to either of them.

"Rumpel." Belle placed a hand on his shoulder. Her crystal orbits read his without him even a saying a word. Already she could read what lay penned upon his black heart in bright, bold script.

Coaxed from the brink of despair by her soft, melodious voice, the Dark One found her azure eyes. Tears raced freely down her cheeks in torrents of their ill fortune. It wasn't fair and she knew that fact as well as he. They just couldn't be happy no matter what road they walked. Life seemed to eschew their wants of a good existence with happiness no matter what they did.

Swallowing hard, the Dark One fought back tears of his own. A lump of shame lodged tight in his throat, threatening to choke him. His gray-gold knuckles stroked her cheek in tender apology. "I'm sorry Belle."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Belle assured him with a weak sanguine smile through the stream of tears. She tried, by heaven above, she tried to stopper them behind the wall of courage that held all her sorrows but the flood of agony was a tsunami that refused to be held by the sluice gate of her stoic will. "I know what this means. You aren't the type of man to leave a child fatherless. You didn't in the forest and you certainly won't now that the child in question is your own. You are a good man Rumpelstiltskin and you will be a fine father to this babe."

Choking back foul agony, the fiend gulped down the knot of emotion in his throat. She knew him far too well even with their precious little time they held together. She knew he would not simply abandon another child even one that sprang from Cora's womb. "After I finish my price for you, you must leave Belle. I can't leave my child to be reared by this witch. I can't leave another of my children." Long he had planned and dreamed of what they would do when his price was paid, but now she would have to find safety and any amount of happiness alone.

Torment lashed his heart at the thought of watching her walk out of the castle alone. Did fate so enjoy to see bits of his heart ripped away one by one until only darkness and regret remained? Was the price always so high for the magic coursing through his black blood?

"You must go to your fathers kingdom at once when I pay your price." The fiend explained lowly, forcing his pain away. His features melted back into a hint of stalwart sturdiness. "I can protect that place for you."

If nothing else, he knew, his determination strong, he could at least make certain she and her people were no subjects of the curse. Perhaps she could find some mode of happiness there and forget about him. Perhaps the man she was once betrothed to had matured and could love her like she deserved.

Belle's brow beetled in confusion. "Protect?" She tossed her head a trifle. "I don't understand. Protect from what?"

"Belle-." He began pleadingly. She had to know, the fiend knew, she deserved to know what price was for her life now that they were to be parted. There was no way she couldn't find out. When the curse was to be enacted she would realize his price and everything he had done for her.

She cut in. "Don't keep things from me Rumpel. Not now. Not when we may not have much time." Trepidation fluttered like a frightened dove caught in her heart. Its pure wings beat a panic tattoo in her chest, trying to find escape. She knew some price was meant to be paid, but what?

"What I and Cora were working on with the magic." Rumpelstiltskin bowed his head in reply. Confession spouted from his lips in shame. He knew the price was wrong, but anything for his precious Belle.

A pale hue whitened the beauty's features with his admittance. Cora and magic together were never for anything good. She didn't know what they had been planning, but she knew it wasn't good. If Cora made that part of their deal…. "Rumpel you can't." She protested, her words tremulous and desperate.

"I have too." The broken hearted fiend stated through his pain. There was no hiding anything now that their happiness lay littered in rubble about their feet. "The deal I made in order to buy your freedom requires me to bring darkness into this world. Belle without this deal, my deal for you is void…."

"You mean…." Dread clamped a hand about her tongue, her mouth unable to reform the nightmare.

A solitary tear brooked down the Dark One's cheek. "You'd be Cora's captive once more." He breathed in a trembling reply, his heart crumbling to ash. "Oh Belle I'm sorry, but it's the only way."

"No." Belle fought back her pain that threatened to flood her soul. "No you're not sorry. You've no need to be sorry." Hope and stubborn rebellion flourished in a bright flash of light through her heart from the shadow of their dourness. At once she became an anchor in their sea of melancholy. Her hands wrapped about him, her heart helping his in the morass of despair. "You will not be sorry. I would not want such a price for my life. We won't be sorry anymore. We will be what we must. You will not enact this magic. You will give this child a sturdy family. You will love them for who they are not who their mother is. I will love them because they are your child and watch over them and that is how life will be."

If fate had decided they would be unhappy then they would make the best of their plight, Belle reasoned stoically. They would have to survive as best they knew how even bereft of one another's arms.

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head stubbornly, his will too far gone. How could he allow such a harsh travesty? "I can't Belle. I have to find someway to set you free even if it means doing exactly what Cora wishes. I couldn't build a family knowing you're so close and that I could not have you. Nothing matters to me but you and your happiness."

"For the child's sake, Rumpel." Belle pleaded to him, her fingers curled over his brown tunic. "For the realms sake. Don't ruin everyone's happiness for ours."

Snuffing out happiness was not the answer to their problems. He would make all miserable for their sake. What kind of life would that be, knowing all others were swamped in misery while they stood upon dry land?

"I am a selfish beast Belle. I cannot see you enslaved." The fiend held her hands in his talons. How could she not wish to at least be free? What did he care about the rest of the world, and his child would learn what misery was soon enough with a mother like Cora. All that mattered was at least she could be free.

Looking into his eyes with her crystalline depths, the beauty pulled her hands away. Her body yearned to be close, but she couldn't make him think his words were right. Her azure dot hardened to cerulean ice to hide her despair. "If you do, Rumpel. I can't stay with you. I won't. I can't be with a man I know in my heart is good, yet knowing he did something so selfish."

"Belle-" The fiend began to argue, even demand but he stopped short. She would never forgive him for such a thing. Every day of their life they would go through the darkness and grayness of a world awash with misery and Cora as their vile queen. That would not gain them happiness either. Rumpelstiltskin bowed his head, shame heaping over his very soul. "There really is nothing we can do…."

"We can love from afar." Tears streamed down her cheeks once more, her flood of agony renewed in their pain. "Everyday when I wake and the world is happy and smiling and bright I'll know you love me. Love is not always doing what you want. Some part love is willing to let pain in in order to help those you love." Her words dropped to a whisper. "Love me enough to do what's right."

Drawn to his darkness and light, the beauty nestled in his arms once again. In her soul she knew he would not enact the magic. Laying her head upon his chest she listened to the intrepid beat of the heart that owned hers. The good man was worth far more than her freedom.

Angry storm clouds swirled in the Dark Ones soul. Fury crackled like lightening, ready to unleash a storm of pernicious proportions. How he wished to rage and scream to the world and the heavens and all the injustices locked within. "We were to leave these walls and find happiness." Torment hedged the fiends timbre.

"Have faith, Rumpel." Belle braved a tenacious smile though her heart lay in the black stone at their feet. Tenderly, she laid her calloused palm against his gray-gold cheek, her eyes finding his. "Love is the strongest power of all. Everything will work out in the end. You'll see."

"I wish I had your faith." The fiend murmured and pressed his forehead against hers. Their hearts beat as one as they shared the precious moment ensorcelled in one another arms. Each drew of the others strength to aid them in their hopelessness. If fate was to be so cruel they could at least have each other at the one moment.

A sad smile broke upon her lips. "You may not have my faith but you have my love." She promised, her oath eternal. "I suppose that will have to do."

~8~8~

Infinite glee filled Cora's abominable heart as she glided through the main hall like a malicious ghost on some dark errand. All about her the keep radiated pulses of somber dread. A sense of dourness laid upon the keep such as the black walls had ever known in all there years housing the witch.

The melancholy that once permeated from the towering stone seemed almost like a whimsy of a petulant child compared to the plaintive emotions that painted the walls now. Two torn souls granted a dour sadness that the keep savored like a fine wine and added to the misery trapped within the sable stones. Coldness wailed down the stone corridors professing the lugubrious sorrow of two lovers who could never be.

Low creaking of aged gears and wobbly spools squeaked at a rapid gait in the furthest corner of the main hall as the witch drifted into the room. Shadows pooled in the cold corner where the Dark One sat at his ancient spinners wheel.

Hunched over like some elderly beast gnarled by aged, the Dark One worked silently in his corner. Wiry gray-gold talons curled over the wood and turned the wheel in a blur that made the shadows dance like the flames in the hearth. His whiplash body was bent double as though his black heart was tied with heavy stones that pulled him to the ground.

The fiend's body tensed like a man struck with a cat o' nine tail as he felt the harpy enter the dimly lit hall. His dexterous fingers twitched and diverted an inch from their spinning course, telling the tale of his bitter hatred. It was her, the wretch who couldn't abide others satisfaction, the thief of his happiness who carried his child.

Hints of gold from his talons sparkled intermittently in the light as he moved one hand in endless repetition over the wooden wheel in and out of the shadows. At his feet a kings ransom in gold pooled in a tangled bramble of stringed riches over his black boots. The basket normally reserved to catch the product of his thinking was overflowed in a sea of gold.

Every inch of the enchanted straw told a story of a battle he was fast losing. Whatever he was trying to forget wasn't being forgotten in the slightest.

Oh yes, Cora preened darkly, their misery would be long and terrible.

The enchanted ruby ring that caused such pain glittered against the firelight as she slipped into her chair. Her hands sensually ran the length of the dark wood arms rests as though feeling the delicious agony the Dark One exuded. Settling comfortably in the plush high back chair by the fire she felt once more in control of all her surroundings. She was ultimate queen of her domain again and held every pawn in her hand.

"Should we begin our plans to assault the fairies, Rumpel dear?" Cora asked in dastardly mocking to the Dark One laying new memories aside upon his wheel. Cruel taunting laced her lovely siren voice.

Surely now he would complete their bargain just to see his love freed from her slavery. With him by her side and the slave girl and he both miserable what did she care if the slave was freed. Her life would be her own again, but she would leave half her heart behind. Her heart would always be endowed by pain when she recalled what she lost. There would be no pleasure in her freedom, only hardship and pining.

The wheel creaked at a slower tempo as her taunting words died through the cold air. His knuckles curled in a vice over the rim of the wheel until they took a gray tint. The words of agreement danced like errant sparks upon his tongue wishing to spring free and cast a blaze. All he would have to do was say yes and his Belle would once again be a free woman. She wouldn't have to stay and watch as he reared a child with a woman he didn't love. Still….

"No." Rumpelstiltskin ground out firmly, his jaw clenched in a stoic vice. How he wished to speak the opposite, but reminders of his love bound his tongue from agreeing to such evil. Only her love would make him say such words, to not conform to his selfish ways.

Surprise flared the sorceress black heart with his admission. Her brow knit into thin, perturbed lines that held testament to her confusion. He still wasn't going to go through with the magic?

Gathering herself in a cloak of certainly, the witch austerely banished the look of confusion from her face. She couldn't let him see her disappointment. A smile weaseled upon her glossy ruby lips. "Then you know what that means, Rumpel. Our deal is void. The slave girl belongs to me again."

"Perhaps we can change the deal." The magical monster tried to reason. Bile rose to his throat in a wave of disgust that burned his blood as he addressed her. Heaven above knew he didn't wish to speak to the witch, but if he had any chance to save his Belle he would at the very least try.

Dark flares of cruelty glinted like hoary steel in her almond eyes. Oh he was desperate; deliciously so. "I want nothing else from you, Rumpel. No. There will be no changing of the deal. Either you help me bring my misery to the realms of your love remains to serve me."

Claws gripped the Dark One's heart in perilous agony but he shook his head. Belle would not wish him to agree. Never. To be of an accord with Cora was to lose Belle still.

Clamping his mouth into a thin gray line the fiend pinioned his black eyes upon his spinning in vain attempts to let the world fall away if only for a few hours. His hands spun the wooden wheel once more at a rattling tempo, trying to peel away the memories that tore his soul.

A vile chuckle tittered from the witches lips. His prided resolution was dogged but laughable. He was still trying to play the hero. "It's so unfair isn't it?" Her words aimed a poison tipped, taunting spear into his chest. "You found your love and yet you can't have her."

The fiends body flinched as the serrated menace cut into his figure and down into his soul. His heart twitched with agony as claws of despair overwhelmed him and dug remorselessly into his form. She would enjoy her torments he knew, and even more so with another to cause agony upon. And he couldn't stop her….

"Of course." Cora motioned casually to the despondent fiend. "You could kill me and be with your love, but that would be slaying two lives one of which is of your own pedigree. It seems, dear, foolish Rumpel I've got you by the throat and if you dare defy me I will make those you love pay."

Only the crackling of wood in the hearth and the creaking of the wheel echoed through the main hall as the witch let her cruel taunts pause. Not a sound echoed from his corner. He wasn't going to rise to the occasion, she knew, but that would simply make things more fun.

Sighing as though nothing more than inconvenienced by his stubborn display the witch clapped her hands to beckon her renewed slave girl. A dastardly smile curled over her lips as the wheel paused. That would certainly get his attention.

Looking over, the fiend glared at the witch. Horror and hate danced equally into his sable depths. "What are you doing?"

"Calling my slave." She reveled easily with a tired yawn. "I'm bored and if you won't provide my entertainment I have another who will. And this time, Rumpel I will have no interfering. If you aid her in any way I will see it as a breaking of rules from the girl herself. Remember the girl is mine and magic, if I so deem, will bar you from doing anything to aid her from my hands. Her price was paid and the magic will make certain the payment is upheld to its fullest extent."

Swallowing hard, the fiend quelled his pride. Magic was too strong to cut once the chains of the deal had been forged. "Don't. Please... Don't be cruel to her." He begged, the words erupting from his lips before he could stop them. "Please."

Did his love have to endure pain atop of the misery that was being denied love?

"Pleading?" Cora laughed in stark amazement, truly taken aback. "Is that what I hear from the most powerful sorcerer alive? Pleading for a slave girl?"

The fiend took a deep breath, his passion speaking from his heart. "I love her Cora. I will beg for those I love."

"Well this will be interesting then." Cora claimed as the beauty crept inside the main hall.

Head bowed, Belle carefully shuffled in, once more the dutiful slave. Cora would have had to find out the deal was off sometime and she was not of the inclination to do things that would get her punished right again. If being submissive would ensure a bit of her pain away, the she would though she was by no means cowed again. That Belle was gone forever, but survival still burned a hot ember in her heart.

Swiveling her head to the girl like a hawk with new prey in her vision, the witch gave a cruel grin. The firelight gleamed off her pale skin giving her flesh a ruddy tint. "Do you know what he's just done slave? He asked me not to be cruel to you." She tapped a manicured finger to her chin. "But I wonder what's worse that my cruelty." Turning back to the Dark One she loosely tented her fingers under her chin. "I'll make you a deal, Rumpel. Swear to still share my bed and all that entails and I won't be cruel to her. No beatings, no stair scrubbing."

"You have no heart." Belle ground out painfully through clenched teeth. Head up, her eyes bored the truest hatred anyone could have into the witch. The ultimatum struck her heart with a thunderous punch. Had they not suffered enough? She didn't wish for pain, no one did, but at the cost.… "Do you have to force someone to your bed with a deal because no one can love you?"

A snarl wrenched Cora's mouth. She would have to curb that rebellious, free thinking part of her slave again. "I'll cut you your tongue for that slave!"

"Deal." The Dark One sighed sorrowfully before the witch could raise her hand to punish the girl. His black eyes strafed over to the beauty. "I can't watch her be cruel to you Belle. If I can take a bit of your pain away I will. You know I don't love her. I will never lover her. I will tell you I love you everyday. She may have my body but you have my heart."

Perhaps she wouldn't understand but he couldn't let that type of pain continue. If he was to witness Cora beating his love then every bit of control would flee his body. He would do anything she would ask without blinking. His body was a husk, a shell. Mayhap the pain of knowing he only bedded the witch as a deal would hurt less.

Forcing a brave smile, the beauty looked back rebelliously at the witch. A single crystal tear raced down her cheek, but a victorious smile curved her lush mouth in victory. No matter what evil she could cook up in her mind, the Dark One loved his Belle all his passion would be for her and not the witch. Even with a deal the sorceress would only be second best.

Darkness roiled over the witches face like a dark cloud. Jabbing a quivering finger to the door she snarled at the girl. "Go to your cell, slave. I've no more wish to see you." She snapped rabidly, her temper barely under control.

"And I've no wish to see you." The fiend stated coolly and rose from his stool. Padding over to his Belle he slipped an arm into hers. "I'll walk you down." He smiled tenderly at his love. All the hate and pain whisked away from his face with her so near. He might not could have been with her as he wished but she still owned his heart.

Almond eyes pinioned upon the pair, the witch followed them with a disapproving look until they disappeared through a door.

As they vanished, a stark frown pulled her mouth. Shadows and lights danced against her face, leaving the devilish gears churning. Her face was calm, but inside she wished to scream with the rage of a thousand banshees in one monstrous chorus.

There had to be some other way to make him bring forth his magic. There had to….

Abruptly, a smile formed upon her lips. Yes, there was something he would pay any magic for.

Everyone had there breaking point and he had just shown his.


	22. Darker and Darker

Black, jagged claws of despair gripped Belle's stalwart soul and pierced her spirit as she put the water on for the Dark One's morning tea. Heaviness heaved her barren heart like a boulder sunk in the center of her body. A sad frown traced her normally smiling mouth as she scuttled about moving a few things and gathering the small pots that cluttered about the silver tray.

Cold draft whipped against her skin in icy fangs as she lumbered along with her tasks. Tendrils of her silky chestnut mane fanned about her porcelain skin in a curtain of unkemptness. Her shoulders sagged with the imminent stone yoke of defeat as her body moved along like a puppet jerked about by cords of sorrow.

Already their routines had fallen in the same laborious trek amidst the stone walls of the ominous keep. She served the Dark One first long before Cora awoke then served the witch whilst she rambled off a list of chores to break her back and make her fingers bleed upon. The last few days seemed a glassy dream, broken by the harsh fist of reality into a thousand twinkling splinters. All she held left were the shards of what once was, that dug into her hands and spilled her blood upon her heart.

Rumpelstiltskin was bound to care for his child and she was bound to be slave again to a mistress who enjoyed to be cruel to her. There was no justice to the world.

A sad sigh tumbled from her frowning mouth as she delicately placed the same blue and white porcelain kettle on the silver tray. At least some things seemed to never change. Tea was always something they could cherish.

Scanning the kitchen once more to make certain nothing had been omitted from their normal mornings; the beauty heaved up the tray and glided through the large open doors.

Chills that raced down the black corridors bit ruthlessly into her skin, but she welcomed the cold. Steam billowed from the spout and against her face like a warm hand gliding across her skin.

As she traversed the maze of black halls, Belle felt her pain ease. Even in routine there was some minuscule comforts left in life. Some things could not be so easily banished from their hearts.

At least they had this, a melancholic smile twitched faintly upon her lips with the pleasant soothing thought. At least they had a few moments in the morning without the shade of Cora adumbrating all their lives. They would find time in the cracks of the day to share their love and whisper the secrets deepest in their hearts to one another.

Love would always find away, the beauty believed without a hint of doubt. The rose of their love couldn't be wilted by the frigid shadows that shrouded their ardor. Love was stronger than that.

Buoyed by the cooling balm that lay over her pain, the enslaved beauty breathed deep. Her lungs burned as the cold air raced through her, thrilling her body. A small smile pricked her lips. Nothing was going to stop all their happiness.

Pushing open the final door of her venture, her smile immediately fell.

"I thought I'd join you this morning, Rumpel." Cora revealed in a taunting smile as she stood beside the dim fire place.

A fine pale cream colored dress of watery silk garbed her sensuous body. The collar of her dress dipped down into a modest V that exposed her swan-like neck. Her silky black hair was pinned up and pearls entwined into her sable locks. A silver necklace set with an opal hung to the V neck of her gown and a ruby ring she had taken to wearing donned her left hand.

She was the figure of beauty to behold even in her wickedness. Alluring she was but fangs hid behind her loveliness to sink into her prey. Malice danced in the shadows of her eyes making her beauty seem a terrible and wretched thing.

Rumpelstiltskin growled dangerously at the woman who stole his happiness. Sitting in his normal chair, the fiend eyed the witch hatefully. Utter loathing danced like streaks of fire in his sable dots. At that moment nothing was more hated than she who had wrenched his happiness from his hands.

Drawn by the creaking hinges of the door opening, the witch darted her cunning almond eyes away from the snarling fiend. An acidic smile drew to her glossy red lips. "There you are slave. I was wondering when you would be back with tea." Folding her hands in her lap she sank politely into her chair on the other end of the table.

Renewed despair wailed relentlessly against the beauty's heart. What she wouldn't have given for her body to sink into the stone and become a shadow to dance upon the coarse walls. Why did she have to be there, Belle wished to scream to the rafters in sorrowed rage. Why did she have to ruin even a few moments of happiness?

"I apologize for my tardiness mistress." Belle padded forward carefully with her burden of tea tray. Ornate spoons and cutlery clinked as she lightly set the silver tray in the center of the table.

Turning to her work, the girl prepared tea for two without a hint of complaint. Now was not the time to bite back and perhaps have her punished. Rumpelstiltskin's deal nullified punishments but that didn't mean her ever sadistic mistress couldn't come up with a mile long list of chores.

The witch flicked her spell worn hand flippantly. "I don't care about your apologies, slave. Just serve."

"Why did you come down, Cora?" The Dark One piped up, his voice brimming with abject loathing. Anything to divert attention from Belle was a grateful welcome. Huffing he leaned casually in his chair, his muscles tense as bow strings. "I thought you'd be in the throes of some morning sickness."

"There is magic to stave off such." The witch retorted promptly with the twitch of a smile. Of course she wasn't blind to the Dark One subtle burrowing to catch her in some lie or find out she wasn't with child. Still, there were pretenses to upkeep.

A dark, disapproving frown etched his gray-gold visage. "I don't want you using such magic when it concerns our child." The fiend spat firmly. "Who knows what prices magic has on the unborn."

For a tense moment, the woman looked to argue the matter. Why did he try to be so utterly noble? Opening her mouth, she shut it once again, her smile returning. "I'll concede to that, Rumpel." She nodded neatly. "No more magic when it comes to the child from here on out."

"Thank you." Dubiousness lingered upon his flat tone. His eyes narrowed suspiciously to the witch. Cora was never so accommodating. Part of him feared she would try something to hurt his heart against his child.

Taking a careful sip of her tea, the witch turned her eyes back upon the bowed beauty. Pain marred her lovely features, awash in the throes of distress. She must have hated hearing them talk such about the 'child'. Perhaps she wished the one who held the bundle was she.

Sniffing imperiously, the witch motioned to the door. "Be gone slave, these matters don't concern you. I wish to speak to the Dark One alone."

Belle gave a silent nod to the command. Arguing was futile to the woman who thought her no more than an animal to be worked. Sparing the Dark One an errant glance, the woman slipped away leaving the two alone.

"I don't have much to say to you, Cora." The fiend turned his eyes away to the last embers of the night's flames in the gaping stone hearth and sighed. Pressing his fingertips into a pyramid, the Dark One placed his black nails under his chin. His voice murmured in thoughtful regret and desire. "I only wish to see the babe hale and healthy. That is all that concerns me."

"All?" Low laughter tittered from her slyly smiling mouth. She canted her head mockingly to the left. "Is that really all you're concerned about? Not your love or anything else that provides such flagrant vulnerability to the depths of your heart?"

Darkness rumbled from his throat, his mouth twisted into a hated sneer. "I'm not concerned about your magic anymore or your twisted schemes for misery to wrack these lands. I had happiness and I know I would never allow any to feel the misery I feel now." Thin, wiry claws encircled the edge of the chipped cup involuntarily.

"Touching." Drawled Cora in boredom. She yawned politely behind her hand. "But do you really think you can stop it? We've already gathered the Wild Magic all that is left to reap is the fairies vaunted power and to cast the curse." Clucking her tongue she smiled infuriating patronizingly. "Do you really want to throw that away because of some slave girl?"

"More than anything." He shot, his lips barely pried apart. Fury glittered diamonds in his marble eyes. What once had been lust was sheer hatred for her. Anger flared under his gray-gold skin. Cora had a way of making him want to fly into a rage.

"For shame, Rumpel. You always tried to drive into me the importance of seeing your plans through. Too bad." Cora chuckled pleasantly before taking up her tea cup once more. "You see I grow tired of this toying with you, Rumpel. You know how much I want my plans to come to fruition." Cora stated tersely, her voice scolding as though unhappy with an unruly brat.

Satisfaction traced his lips. "I'm afraid that's just not going to happen, Dearie." If he could not be happy then by all the magic in the world she would not be given the same right!

"Are you so certain?" Cunning convincing slyness oozed in her innocent tone. Perching a brow she checked her gaze from fiend to slave. "I told you Rumpel, I grow tired of all these games and nothing matters to me more than my magic. I will put this simply to spare us both the rest of this trivial game. Perform your part of the magic or I kill her."

A shiver of absolute power coursed through her veins as the words parted from her mouth. There, that would cut out all their little games and stubbornness. How could he let his love be slain?

Shock braked the fiend's heart in its saddened rhythm. Clouds of disbelief darkened his face into a blank look. "Have you gone mad?" He whispered, his talons clutching the armrests. "First you want to keep her as a slave now you wish to kill her!"

Was Cora mad, he contemplated for a brief moment. Certainly she seemed so. She changed her mind more than a noble woman did fashion styles.

"The problem is, Rumpel dear we see the slave two different ways." Cora explained primly to the fiend, her lips pursed shrewdly. "You see your love. I see a thing that can be used. Extorted. If she cannot succeed in letting me get you to enact my plans then she is of no use to me."

His wiry claws dug into the wood of the chair, scoring deep indention's to the furniture. Pernicious rage danced wildly in his beastly orbs. "You can't do that." The words came out fiercely desperate.

Cold laughter barked from her lips in a flippant chuckle of malicious amusement. "I can do what I want. Her life is mine. She is mine." Folding her hands in her lap, she glared at the Dark One. All humor melted away from her features leaving the wickedness sluiced about her pallid skin in plain detail. "Chose to play your part or I squeeze and squeeze until she dies…."

~8~8~

A light tune normally hummed softly from Belle grinning mouth, but not today. Somberness threaded dread to her heart and wove despair into her soul. Never again did she think she would be able to find any measure of gladness within the bleak walls of Cora's dark citadel. Sorrow guarded her heart, letting no slip of happiness break through a chink in her melancholy.

Blackness clouded her soul and brought no light to the bloom of love that blossomed inside. All the world seemed gray and lost and every beat of time a misery to be endured for minutes more.

In the blink of an eye Cora displayed how she could ruin a moment. In fact the only real moment they had. Having duties she wouldn't have much time with Rumpel, but the hag even sought to annihilate those precious alcoves of ardor.

Would she ever have happiness again, the beauty pondered lugubriously. What had she done so terrible in the past to deserve such a tortuous fate? Who above has she displeased to be tossed such a horrendous future?

Dipping her hands in the wooden tub of dishwater, the beauty tried to banish the thoughts that clawed at her brain. Those were not things she should dwell upon no matter how easy they were to ruminate on in the midst of her chores. Focusing on what she had lost would avail her little, but how could she not when she had truly lost everything?

Hot soapy waters sloshed over her bare, slender arms as she plunged her extremities elbow deep into the sink. Pearly grayish suds sloshed over the rim and unto the floor she would still have to clean as she bent to her task. Dirty morning dishes flecked with scraps, silver cutlery, and tea cups, sat next to the great wooden tub awaiting to be cleaned before she tended her next chore.

Normally work aided in helping her forget her strife, but not this pain that pounded with every leap of her heart. Her love was too strong to have any attention diverted from her pining. Her heart was cracked into fine shards and no balm or tincture could connect the pieces again. Only Rumpel could mend that mortal gap and he was-

"He's going to enact the magic." Cora hummed delightedly as she appeared in the kitchens.

In an instant the smell of strong ammonia wafted through the drafty climes of the larder. Disgusting power pressed from all sides as though oozing from the walls in black, slimy thickness.

Evil roiled bout the devious witches small, sensual body as she appeared in the larder where the girl toiled. Victory etched her lips in a wicked glossy scarlet grin as she preened. "Your love is a lost cause. He will bring forth misery."

"You're lying." Belle rebuffed, her heart twisting. Not turning to look at the witch, the beauty scrubbed at the plates cluttering the sink.

Inside, her heart shivered at the declaration. Rumpel had decided to go along with the scheme? Why would she say such words if they weren't the truth? Cora was conniving and a liar but she wouldn't lie about something so easily discovered. One chat with her love and she would know the truth so why lie about such a matter easily discovered if fact or fiction?

She perched a slim brow. "I am?" Her tone displayed not a hint of anger. Normally for Belle speaking in such a manner she would have sent arches of pain into her form, but not now. A sly, eerily calm smile curved Cora's mouth. "Ask him yourself." She chuckled and proffered a dainty hand to the doors. Her lips twisted into a vile smirk. "He's at his wheel right now trying to come up with a plan."

Taking one scathing, half curious look at the grinning witch, the beauty tossed her rag back into the steaming, soapy water. Wiping her hand on a dry brown towel she forced her features to remain stilled and calm. With all dignity she walked past the witch and to the man she hoped had not sold his magic's to her already.

Outside the kitchens, the beauty felt the sharp edged fears nibble the noble fringes of her confidence. Claws of worry twisted her heart like a wet rag. Would he have cracked so easily after one day? He had been surprisingly gentle with Cora concerning the child earlier. Had he crumbled to her wishes?

Sternly, the beauty tossed the thoughts away. No, he would not do something like that, Not when their love hung in the balance. She was worrying for nothing at all. This was merely another cruelty from Cora to spear at her heart.

Forcing herself to believe the words, a small smile tipped one side of her lips. Cora couldn't be right. She just couldn't.

Slowly prying open a door to the main hall, the beauty at once espied the fiend. The hinges upon the door were silent allowing for a circumspect entry into the place where the fiend spun.

Rumpelstiltskin stood near his wheel, but not upon the stool in front of his spinner's tool in his usual manner. Wiry arms crossed, the Dark One surveyed a scene playing out before him.

Magic in the shape of peoples and places danced before him like a puppets show. Tiny creatures with wings forged of his purple mist darted about and then fell to the ground in heaps. Another figure that looked like himself swooped down upon the figures and stole something in a bag next to the largest of the winged kind.

Watching the actions with a critical eyes, the fiend waved his hand laconically in front of the images. Immediately the forms disintegrated into themselves as nothing but purple smoke that swirled about him.

"Cora sent you, didn't she?" The fiend asked through tight lips, his words soft. Not looking her way the magical monster stared at the wooden spokes of the wheels.

Only Cora would be so cruel, he knew. She couldn't simply let Belle remain ignorant until the time came. Oh no she had to place another brand upon her heart and evoke more pains.

Dread pooled in icy sheets in Belle's stomach to witness such a thing. He was planning, she knew, he was going to do something.

Slipping inside, the beauty padded closer to the fiend." You're planning on doing it." She accused softly to his side. "You will go through with her plans."

"I'm sorry Belle." Rumpelstiltskin stated stoically as he hid a flinch. Her words were like knives cutting into his heart and laying waste to all they could slice. She upheld him not to enact the magic as a show of love and he had tossed that trust into the flames.

Magic bristled like fronds of frost upon the cool draft as a puff of lingering amethyst power snaked about him. Swirls of fog drifted over his skin and tendrils of his straggly brown hair in a noxious sickly sweet mist. Standing tall, the fiend looked akin to a stoic statue. Sternness and rigid neutrality sprawl across his normally animated visage. Nothingness danced in his eyes, carefully hiding what emotions roiled beneath. He had to be cold know more that any other time in his life. "I'm going along with Cora's plan." He admitted simply.

Pain caught in Belle's lungs. How could he do that? "Why, Rumpel?" Pleading crumbled her voice to tears.

"It's the best choice." The fiend replied, his own emotion cracking through the facade of his neutrality. His heart ached with an all too real pain showering acid upon his soul. But he couldn't let her perish at the hands of Cora. Even if she refused to love him, he would not watch her die. "I understand if you hate me for it."

Hate him? Absurdity mellowed the agony streaking across her cracked heart. She could do many thing but hating him was not one. "You know what has to happen now, but I can't hate you." She claimed softly through her abject sorrow. Never that.

"Please." The words seethed wretchedly from his pencil thin mouth. His entire body trembled as though his heart was about to burst. He was about to lost everything. "Please hate me." He rasped hoarsely.

At least with hate perhaps his heart might would grow callous again to stave off some of the tortuous pain. Hate would buffer the blow of knowing he let her down. Hate would dull the edges of the sharp knife of his betrayal he stabbed in her heart.

Stubbornly the beauty tossed her chestnut head. "I could never." Emotions rang free in her voice. She didn't know what had changed his mind, but something wasn't right. He certainly didn't seem to want to evoke the misery curse. Taking a step forward, she tried to find his eyes. "What's happening Rumpel?"

"Leave me here, Belle." He gulped down his agony. "Leave me to my pain."

How could he tell her what her mistress concocted in her mad mind? Would she still be adamant to not cast the curse? Of course she would, he knew, Belle was brave and noble and would sacrifice her self for all the realms. That, however, was something he would not contend for.

Forcing his attention away from her, the Dark One erected a new image with magic. Focusing solely on the peoples forged of power, the fiend held the chunks of his bleeding heart in his hands as he planned a course of action.

Tears dripped from the enslaved beauty's azure jewels with the exclamation. Why he was doing it she didn't know, but whatever the reason he was not to be changing his mind. Talking to him would reward her nothing but more heart ache.

Defeated, truly defeated the beauty turned away, content to wallow in her own misery as well.

Ears strained, the fiend listened to every step the beauty took. A frown graced his gray-gold face wrought with torment. Oh indeed he planned on some actions, some recourse, but he couldn't tell her just what. He couldn't risk any other finding out what he had in mind, even if it was his love.


	23. The Good for the Bad

_A/N: In the final stretch now. One or two more chapters to go! Also, someone please tell me it isn't so! He can't, he isn't, they wouldn't! Seriously, I need confirmation he's not T.T_

**~8~8~**

Dawn was just beginning to tint the pointed crowns of the barren trees in painted splashes of purple and creamy pink as the final plan was polished and agreed upon by sorcerer and sorceress. Rays of intrepid sun broke through the grayness of the frigid morn, yet all near the ominous keep remained swathed in black. Not until the sun was fully risen did the slants of light begin to chip away at the shadows.

"It's done." Rumpelstiltskin murmured dryly as he stared into a black glassy orb in his clawed grip. For hours he had worn and woven a plan Cora would be satisfied with and finally she had agreed on a replete recourse.

Darkness engulfed the fiend as he stood in Cora's dreary apothecary. Blackness clung like shifting banners to the walls and cast all in the somber hue of death. No matter what light the sun tenaciously provided through the scarlet panes and the arrow slits no cheer or luminance truly filled the citadel of the malicious witch. A low, banked fire from the night crackled in the hearth that oversaw so many potions being mixed and tested and brewed for their vile purpose.

Nestled in the corner, her shadowy raven stretched his sable wings and flapped rapidly in wicked anticipation. Finally, his mistress was to be victorious!

Staring at his scaled hand, the Dark One gazed upon the weapon that would knock the fairies in deadened slumber. His black nails curled covetously over the dark sphere in his grasp like a dragons claw curled over a large, mythical pearl.

Oil he and the witch formulated months ago swirled in the glassy orb like restless smoke forming into battling serpents. Tendrils of red and black sliced against each other like warring spirits in the glass seeking to subdue the other. The orb was as big as a large man sized fist and perfectly smooth.

Once broken the glass would release a poisoned tincture that would turn into oily smoke and dispatch the fairies into a black out doze that would take time, even from their powers, to be shaken off. The magic elixir wouldn't last long, for already the good and evil magic would bout for dominance, but any time the dust was unguarded to be plucked up without the fairies guarding their precious stock with their lives was a fair one.

A satisfied grin of evilest delight sprang demurely to Cora's wide lips. Gliding, as a ghostly specter towards the fiend the witch proffered her raven hand out to the orb caught in his talons. "Perfect, Rumpel." She nearly purred, her smile oozing malicious approval. Her hands delicately stroked the orb as though petting some tiny creature. "You've done well."

Taunting struck the fiend like a razor lined whip flaying mercilessly away at his bare soul. She was trying to goad him, he knew instantly; seeking some recourse to bring his helpless ire to boil all over again. Her words poked about attempting to find a spot to rouse his rancor and deny her words. Like a gluttonous slug the malicious witch wished to penetrate his skin with her cruel glibness and suck the rage from the very marrow of his bones as delicious wine to fuel her cruelties.

"Let's get this over with." The fiend sighed and tucked the orb into a pocket on his black, boot-length dragon scale great-coat.

Stashed away, the orb bulged like an abscess under the skin from the pocket. Much like his swollen heart the sphere was close to bursting with some mutated strangeness that filled the easily shattered glass. Despite his desire to respect Belle's wishes and not forge ruin upon the realms, he could not watch her die. He had to enact the magic and steal the dust, for her sake.

An evil chuckle escaped Cora's sharply grinning vermilion lips. "Alright, Rumpel. If you don't wish to bask in accomplishment I suppose we can hasten our plans."

"Your plans." He vapidly turned his head to her like a tiger swerving to hated prey. Dirty, unkempt brown locks fanned over his features, detailing the restless anger stewing within. Everything thing he did gave away the furious inward roar of his helplessness. Anger glimmered in the rivers of sadness that swamped his sable dots. Misery conquered any other emotion. He was more than miserable. He was nothing.

"I couldn't have done any of this without you." She patted a gray-gold cheek as though commending a dutiful child. Taking a step away as a sneer twisted his scaled face she let forth a cunning chuckle, her eyes smoldering. He was so alluring when he was angry. "Now, go bring me the dust. I'll be here preparing the spell and remember. No tricks."

Barely controlled fury tempered his lips into a feral grin. "I wouldn't dream of stabbing you in the back."

"And I wouldn't dream of holding that option out of the question." A brilliant, genial smile flared across her scarlet lips. "Remember I know you, Rumpel. All your tricks, all your schemes. I can predict you like the seasons."

A rough chortle of mirthless anger fled his lips. "Not well enough it seems." Looking down he adjusted a glimmering gold trimmed cuff far too energetically. Angered, he pulled the rim of his sleeve pernicious, taking his rage he would have much rather assailed upon Cora out on the scaled fabric. "I won't do anything to jeopardize my love." He retorted tartly, his mouth a sad, grim line.

"See that your ardor checks your cunning then." Cora parried, her smile never fading. Of course, he would be up to something, she knew with the utmost confidence. She was a fool to think he wouldn't but whether he planned to act was a different matter entirely. Love or plans would win out in his beastly black heart and she was betting on love. For all her cunning and plans, he truly, stupidly, loved the slave girl. Perhaps he would behave.

Even still, she fought a tempting smirk; she had a recourse to make sure every trick he could conjure was thwarted.

Bowing curtly in reply to end his unpleasant battle of words with the witch, the fiend snapped his wiry digits. Clouds of misty purple enveloped him in a bulbous thunderhead of magic that would spirit him away to the enclave of the good fairies. Tendrils of mist vaporized his leather arrayed body into pure power of magic.

In moments he was but a fog winging upon the draft of the ominous castle. The vapors of pale purple snaked about as though finding their bearing in the strange form then slipped from the crimson window into the golden morning; leaving an ever grinning Cora behind to bask in the dawn of her victory.

~8~8~

Happiness flourished like summer wildflowers in the secret place where the fairies trod and called home. Nestled away in a grove wreathed by the heaviest of magic's the fairies world was a place of serenity and utmost peace.

Leaves and branches of beech and ash and oak trees, forever in late spring and summer season, interwove into a wide canopy bower over the magical copse where the fairies dwelt and slept. Interment openings in the canopy allowed sunlight to steal through the coppice and alight the fairies sanctuary with gold in the day time.

Dark green ivy and grape vines intermingled with the branches and spiraled thickly over the trees until most of their trunks were shrouded behind the enchanted entanglement of vines and broad leaves. Enmeshed with the lovely bower that formed the homes of the powerful fae, the vines added a lattice to the entwined roof of leaves and branches looming above their heads.

Boils and knots and hollows not hidden by vines spotted the ancient, magical trees and served as the fairies homes. Habituated for centuries the trees were the perfect dwellings for the good fairies. Old grape leaves and silvery ash bark served as privacy screens and doors for their homes lofted in the trees. Networks spiraled through every tree in a palace that connected each tree together.

The fairies kingdom was not just a glades of serene woodland but a palace for the good hearted fae as well!

Upon the very top of the eldest tree, the base clustered with blue bells, lived the Blue Fairy who could survey the glade and all who dwelled within from the hollow of the tree's apex. From her home upon the most aged of the oaks she governed and gave tasks to the fairies who were new and called council to the veterans of their kind. All knew where to find the Blue Fairy and she never turned away a soul.

Though the tiny winged sisters of magic were but small creatures, and their sanctuary secret, their glade was a wide open expanse. Lush, soft grass grew like an bright emerald carpet upon the woodlands floor. Flowers of daffodils and lavender and lilies tall and vivacious dotted the carpet with colors and scents of eternal summer. The gnarled, snaking brown roots that puckered from the ground were cloaked in soft moss and grass conjuring them into tiny mountains and knolls for the small fae.

Serenity emanated from every portion of the tranquil glade and lay softly like the shafts of sun slanting through the open spaces above the canopy.

In the very center of the fairies home, a wooden table, hewn from the very tree that once was the center of the glade, served as a communal meeting place of the fairies. The tree that once forged the iris of the copse was one that had been deep with magic. Roots pumped power into the land until the tree had given all to protect the realms of the fae and vanished leaving the glade in eternal summer and closed about to be the fairies sanctuary.

Once in the morning all of every hue and expertise would gather to the large wooden table. Hollowed out acorn cups in hand and leaflet plates on the stump, they listened to the days duties from their auspicious leader, the Blue Fairy. In the night when the fireflies danced about like lanterns and the moon beams provided the night luminance, the fairies would congregate again for supper and talk of all the good they'd done and the adventures they had winged upon.

No mortal was ever allowed upon their clandestine coppice, not even their friends of dwarf and human alike. None in memory had ever breeched the copse of the fae, and with the world bereft of turmoil the watchfulness for intruders was lax.

Who now would dare seek their sanctuary? Peace ruled the day and no one ever tried to penetrate their glade. Happiness dripped like thick honey all around for mortal and immortal alike and all the hearts of the fairies were glad.

Sitting like a calm, benevolent empress at the front of the massive wooden table, the Blue Fairy watched her sisters with aloof, checked joy. Sobriety measured with punctilious politeness neatly measured her features. Always remembering herself as the highest order, she tempered her happiness with neutrality as best she could manage.

Glee was as addictive to a fairy as ale to a mortal. As the leader, she held herself in control of the happiness that bubbled just as bright within as the outwards signs that her sisters all proudly displayed. Even with peace she did not possess the luxury to toss her austere nature to the winds.

A congenial smile curved her cupid bow lips as she watched the other fairies freely basking in their happiness. They could let their happiness rise as high as they willed. Certainly after all the years they had spent helping those in mortal peril they deserved all the happiness they could afford.

Rays of soft morning sun trickled through the breaks in the canopy above showering the table with sun motes and pleasant tawny light. Steam swirled up from every acorn cup and each fairy took their time sipping languidly whilst lazily talking instead of winging away to their business.

Their good works were slow in the times of peace. Not much qualified as a fairy stepping in for mortals any longer. Here and there a girl wished to go to a ball or a poor boy wanted a magic bean, but there was nothing more to their acts than that.

From their needs being less and less, the dwarves accumulated a hefty sum of dust for them. Bags of the power filled the base of the great tree where the Blue Fairy called her home and even bags had started to fill the corners of her room!

They would have to find someplace else to store the sacks, she knew imperatively, but for now she was content to pick at remnants of breakfast and listen to the other fairies titter of news from across the kingdoms they had picked up upon their normal journeys through the lands.

"You know Prince Eric and Ariel wish for me to be their fairy god mother." One piped up proudly and bit into some fluffy bread.

Another leaned forward in happy amazement. "Truly? Have they decided to have a child yet?"

"Well… not yet." The fairy replied bashfully and flicked a crumb from her grape leaf plate. "But if they do they said they would surely pick me."

A plump fairy donned in bright pink and wearing a conical hat to her right joined in the conversation. "Speaking of children. That god child of mine Aurora."

A wider smile twitched involuntarily upon the Blue Fairies face as the entire winged congregation gave a unified groan. Pink, or Mary Weather as she was named, never did stop talking about her god child and how she and her two friends raised the lass when the she-dragon Maleficent had been all roars and bluster. Still, there was no malice to their groan for all loved the tale and with their needs being few and far between there was much time to hear it told again.

Contentment washed over the majestic Blue Fairy as the story began as they all usually did, with a birth. Settling down more comfortably in her stick and grass blade seat, the eldest fae leaned against her left armrest and let the peace of the cool morn wash over her senses.

The sun was shining, there was good food, a story was being told, and there was a bit of purple fog slipping through one of the sun shafts from a break in their leafed roof.

Abruptly, confusion wrinkled her placid brow as the thought connected. Purple? An amiss feeling twitched caution in her soul. That wasn't normal….

Wafting against the slight breeze, the smoky purple mist drifted lower and lower to the congregation of fairies. Spirals of dark purple thickened, like thunder clouds, winded to the ground and begin to form into some tangible thing.

Curiously leaning forward in her seat, the Blue Fairy never noticed the breakfasting fairies quieting as they too spotted the purple fog banking vapidly from the firmament. Silence pervaded the sanctuary like the final breath of death of some wizened mortal. What sort of aura was this that slipped into their home?

The Blue Fairies muscles tensed under the twinkling muslin of her azure gown. Her wings twitched in an errant flutter that caused the blades of grass beside her to dip and bob. Instinctive her hand reached for her wand upon the table. Anger and fear both brimmed suddenly in her heart, threatening to spill.

There was only one possible man, no monster, she corrected hatefully, such a purple hue belonged to; Rumpelstiltskin.

"Blue." A wary novice, muttered in confusion, her eyes clasped to the strange descending and hardening mist. "What is that?"

"Not what, Dearie. Who." The mist chirped in reply to the inquiry. In the blink of an eye the fog hardened leaving the scaly creature in their mist. A hard won smile painted his face as gave an exuberant bow. "Rumpelstiltskin." He trilled his name jovially. "At your service."

A collective gasp shuddered through the fairies like a light rain pattering to the dry, cracked earth. Most had only heard of the Dark One in legends of old. Stories about the fiend were normally whispered about the fireflies to scare novices. But this was no story, no mere boogey man. Standing before them he was a terrifying as the legends claimed with the skin of a dragon, soulless black eyes, and the impish chortle of a conniving demon.

Incensed, the Blue Fairy leapt to her feet and brandished her wand like some royal whose court was interrupted. "Dark One!" She snapped fearlessly in her authoritative tiny voice. How dare he invade their home!

Her tiny wings pumped angrily sending motes of blue dust shivering down to her seat. In an instant she came up to his face and glared sternly upon the intruding fiend. What did he want after all the years that had passed? "You have no right to be here." A dangerous growl escaped her normally stern voice.

"But here I am." The beast drawled lowly to buy time. Subtly, his black eyes strafed about the large copse. Where would they keep the dust?

The answer came as the largest oak he had ever clasped eyes on tree loomed to his right. Like a beckon, the majesty of such a tree gave the answer to him on a sliver platter. A faint smile twitched his thin, gray lips. Fairies never did have any sense of clandestineness. They were truthful and naively trustworthy. None would steal from them so they would keep their vaunted dust where it most made sense; out in plain sight.

Righteous anger twisted the Blue Fairies normally tranquil visage. Her hand clutched the gnarled wand tighter until her knuckles where as white as the snows. "Leave." he commanded firmly. For all her anger she didn't wish for a fight. Not in their sacred home.

"Oh I will, Dearie." The beast giggled impishly, his lips contorted into a feral smile. Digging into his dragon scale great-coat, the Dark One plucked up the orb. "But first, a gift."

Before the elder fairy could react the fiend let the globule drop to the trunk table. Forever the orb seemed to fall to the sacred wood, then disaster struck.

Glass shattered in all conceivable directions amidst the fairies breakfast. Deadly sharp shards whistled through the air and defaced the lawn with sharp, black spears. Pointed, jagged breaks sang a tune of pain as they shot like arrows and darts amongst the fae, seeking to eek out pain.

Fairies ducked for cover and fought to brandish their own wands by their sides as they fought down a wave of fear. Horrid, bloody screams of the struck tore through the air cracking the serenity of the vale like the broken glass.

The syrupy liquid of the potion oozed through the table and defaced the sacred, ancient stump with vile bile. Golden slants of sun that hit the liquid began to work their heat in the potions favor. Streams of foul black mist rose up from the liquid in vines of noxious fumes that clogged the air that once was perfumed by the scents of summer.

Before most of the fae could gain flight, the smoke over powered them. Wobbling upon their feet and swaying dangerously a few inches in the air, the fairies collapsed in a heap where they stood. One by one, as though struck down, the flying winged sisters fell in a nightmarish doze. All at once their eyes closed as deplorable slumber overtook them.

The angered Blue Fairy had only a moment to raise her wand before the smoke took her thrall. Her wings flapped vapidly as the smoke coiled about her senses and choked them into submission.

Tenaciously she wavered and veered to and fro through the air as though drunk. Shaking her head stubbornly she tried to fight the effects. He couldn't do this! She couldn't become trapped in whatever he was planning. Still, the potion was too great a power to be ignored.

"You will suffer for this." The winged leader stammered sleepily, her voice awash with fear and the promise of vengeance.

Finally, unable to fight of the affects, the fairy slumped and hurtled to the earth. The soft grasses caught her, but the damages were done. The fairies were all subdued.

A frown quickly forged the Dark One's lips as he looked down to the unconscious fairy and her kind strewn about like broken, forgotten dolls. All feigned, sly cheer evaporated like the noxious mist. "I already have." Came the sad reply.

Stepping over her, the fiend muttered a curse as he made way towards the towering oak tree hoarding the magic. Tinges of good magic brushed against his gray-gold flesh like cobwebs as he neared the tree. A grim smile flew to his thin gray mouth.

Yes, the magic was very close.

Slipping his lanky arm into the hallowed boil of the ancient beech, the fiend plucked up a small bag from the home of the Blue Fairy. Pulling his arm out, the fiend fondled the small bag in his grip. Even filled, the dust was oddly light. With a sharp motion of his thumb, he slit a hole in the side of the sack. Light pink and blue dust glittered and flooded out into his grip confirming what he already knew.

Magic.

Beckoning dark magic to his call the powerful fiend sent his power through the hallowed tree to collect the dust. Purple mist rose from the ground like fog evaporating in the golden sun. Snaking through the tree, the power gathered the sacks of magic. Little by little the sacks of power were gathered until they all melded into one bag by the Dark One's boots.

Stuffed, the sack was impressively light even stuffed with magic. Every bit of magic the fairies had had been in the tree and now the power was his.

Satisfied as well as he could be, Rumpelstiltskin heaved the sack of magic over his shoulders like he would have a sack of wool in his old life. If everything went accordingly he wouldn't have to use the magic. Still, he knew Cora could predict him fairly well. Her words hadn't been all boast before he left on his vile errand. She perhaps had some measure of what he had in mind.

But what choice did he have, he thought disparagingly. What else could he do? What more did fate wish to give him but a tiny-

"Blue! Blue!" A tiny voice shrieked in sudden delight about the glade.

Hate darkened the fiend's face as he looked up through the opening in the leaves. A curse murmured past his lip. He had missed one.

A pinkish blue mote darted through a open portion of the canopy high above, momentarily shadowing a ray of golden sun. Nova, the novice of the fairies dived from her task with joyous news.

Buzzing down, the tiny figure screamed the name of the elder fairy exuberantly. "Oh Blue, it's wonderful! She's here! She's.…" The words dribbled from her lips at the sight before her. Hovering in the air, she stared in surprise at the travesty.

Fairies of all different hues and stations lay like fallen upon a battle field. Some were slumped over the tables, other lay face down in blood. Vibrant blood and glass shards glimmered in the sunlight telling of some unspeakable violence. In her absence something horrendous had indeed happened in their sacred home.

Amazement froze her face in shock. Her jaw hung open in abject disbelief. Who had done such a thing? Eyes frantically searching the meadows of lush green amidst the grove, the fairy could do nothing before the Dark One was upon her and grabbed her by the wings.

Holding the iridescent winged creature betwixt his pinched fingers, the fiend brought the novice close to his face. His sable eyes pinioned upon her bright pink form in hateful disgust. As much as he hated his task, he loathed the fairies with almost the same utter hatred. "Well it appears I didn't get all of you." He hissed menacingly in his impish falsetto pitch.

"Who are you?" Terror crackled along Nova's pleasant voice. Who was this beast that assailed her home and left all her sisters lying motionless upon the grassy carpet?

Hatred gleamed like liquid silver in his black orbits. "I would give introduction, but…." He canted his head like a cat looking over a tasty morsel to be consumed. "They don't really matter do they. You'll be dead soon enough."

"You can't kill me." Nova burbled anxiously. Her mouth moved rapidly in explanation. "Snow and Charming's daughter has been born! Blue was to be her fairy god mother! A child born of true love!"

Child?

Despite his hate and self loathing that caught the Dark One's attention! His eyes puckered suspiciously towards the fae. "A child?"

"Yes." The fairy beamed explicatively. Perhaps the thought was softening his heart. "A child of the highest magic! Someone who is truly special!"

All knew the story of the king James and Queen Snow. There life had been fraught with hardships before they became king and queen and brought forth peace in their lands. Because of them the realms were at peace with one another and the ogres vanquished.

For years they claimed to not be able to conceive but rumor told of a nearly dried spring that was said to renew the lost. He had heard tell of them go on a quest for the waters, but if they had ever found the liquid he hadn't known or cared.

Apparently though, he realized they did. At the thought, the gears in his mind began to churn with the budding of a new plan. Epiphany brightened like flares of white and gold in his mind, alighting a new plot before his eyes.

A child forged of true love. No, he pondered, that couldn't be a coincidence. Was fate actually…? Did he dare believe in the most powerful magic of all?

"It's your lucky day, fairy." The fiend sneered lowly, his eyes glinting. "I need you to go on a mission for me."

Nova struggled in his grip, her wings caught. "Why would I do anything for you when you've done this thing to my sisters?"

"Because!" The fiend roared, clicked his tongue, then sobered. He cursed himself inwardly for losing his temper. Now was not the time to frightened anyone. "Because." The fiend began again quieter, but just as dangerously. "If you don't things will be very bad for a very long time. I need some insurance and you're about to give me some." He pointed a dirty, black nailed finger at her. "Go to the Charming's, tell them I shall hold an audience with them soon." Flicking his wrist, he let the fairy free, his voice dark. "Mark my words, fairy, do as I say."

Fierceness traced Nova's face now that she was out of his grasp. The look of arguing branded her skin like a sign easily read, but she dutifully fluttered away. Something in her heart said this was more than met the eye. Blue would have never done such a thing, but Blue was always so stern and refused to hearken to her heart.

Left alone in the glade, the fiend bowed his head, his mind whirling. Running a hand through his straggly hair he let the warmth of the sun and the serenity of the glade fill him. For the first time in days a white spine of lightening arched through his heart beating the darkness of despair back. A new breath filled his lungs.

Perhaps fate had not abandoned him, he dared ponder.

There was a small window open, one that not even Cora would suspect. Now he had to make sure he took the opportunity for all the chance was worth.

Snapping his fingers decidedly, his blackened heart renewed with an ember of hope, the fiend disappeared from sight. They might have a chance yet.

~8~8~

"Something is terribly wrong, James." Snow breathing weakly in barely subdued panic as she looked on to her darling husband. Worried, that should have been tired joy, laced her worn ragged face. After birth glow radiated from her features but was largely entwined instilled with anxiousness.

Nova had come bringing tidings of terrible news from a man who always played the fences. Rumpelstiltskin was on the prowl again and he held them in his devilish sights with the talk of "news".

Pacing akin to some guardsmen standing patrol over his wife, the king rubbed his chin and marched nervously. His sword sheath slapped against his leg with each strong step. "It could be nothing." Charming protested lamely, striving for an inkling of hope. He bounced his sword calloused fingers off the side of his head as though trying to pull some explanation out to comfort his wife. "You know Rumpelstiltskin. He likes to keep people on their toes."

"We haven't heard from him in years." Snow protested, her voice crackling with worry. Rumpelstiltskin, she knew very well, did not bother people until he needed them. Mortals were of no use to him except for entertainment or plots.

A sigh fell from the king's mouth. "He's a trickster Snow. He likes ruining things like these happy days."

"Not this time." Nova wafted about the chamber frantically. "I've never met him but even then this seemed serious." She turned her eyes to the babe resting on her mothers chest. "He acted so strangely when I mentioned the child."

At the motion of the precious babe, Snow held her child close to her sweat drenched sleeping attire. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo with the terrible though of Rumpel turning some plot towards their child.

The sweet baby, slept in her mother arms blissfully unaware of the change in their happiness. What did Rumpel want with their baby?

Fear, plain and consuming paled Snow's beauty face. "What does he want with our Emma?"

"Help." The Dark One remarked softly from the shadows. Stepping out from the black corner of the chamber, the fiend kept his distance from the bed of the queen.

Taken off guard, in a moment the king spun about to face the fiend that entered unawares. Brandishing his blade with an expert grace, Charming turned the point to the Dark One. "Stay away." He firmly growled, his tone dangerous as he stalked towards the fiend. Determination steeled his eyes like jewels. There was no way the beast was getting near his family.

Hands clasped before him, the magical monster motioned with a flicker of his wiry fingers. "Stand down. I mean you no harm." He replied softly and kept his face calmly at ease.

"Not going to happen." The protecting father and husband replied. Not taking his guard down him eyed the fiend warily. "What do you want?"

"To warn you and give you hope." Rumpelstiltskin explained lowly, his gray lips pursed tight. "Something bad is about to happen. A darkness such as had never been seen in all the realms will soon wash over our world."

With that, the fiend waved a hand and sent a stream of purple in Snow's direction. There was no use trying to explain everything. There was no time.

A breath of dismay tore from Snows lips as the clouds raced towards her daughter. Enraged, James tried to cut at the magic but to no avail. The snaking mists of magic softly wafted down to the sleeping girl and slipped beneath her skin as she breathed slowly in slumber.

Furious, the king slashed at the beast who refused to move. "What did you do?" He all but roared, his tone seized in fear and panic.

"Fear not." The beast comforted in calm assurance. Charming's blade had been nowhere near him but even had it, he would have taken the deserved strike. "Your daughter will be able to save us from this evil that comes."

Panicked, Snow looked down to her sleepy daughter. "What did you do to her?" She breathed in terror. Hot tears pricked her eyes as she stared at her precious child. Why was the Dark One doing this to them?

"Only helped." The Dark One reiterated calmly. "Please. Believe me. I've not harmed her in any way. I've simply given her the means to save you all from the evil that comes to take all you hold dear."

Charming paced a step forward, his eyes glinting. " You give this insane task to a baby? She's defenseless! If this evil is so terrible then why haven't you stopped it oh mighty Dark One!" He shot back, his breath heavy with emotion of a helpless parent. "Why put this task to our daughter?"

"I would stop the evil if I could." The fiend huffed lugubriously, a sardonic, sad smile upon his mouth. "But I won't be around."

Cora had been too smart. She knew what last resort he had been planning and had gotten there first. With his last plot he had hopped to avoid the deal with the Charming's baby altogether, but alas the witch's words had been true. She knew him far too well.

Consternation wrinkled Snow's brow at the odd reply. "What?"

"The details don't concern you, majesty." Rumpelstiltskin replied soberly in an all-suffering sigh as he turned his body a bit to look at her. "Only know that what is about to happen won't be forever, and that is the best I can do. Other than that…." He paused for a moment then nodded. "You have my apologies."

There was hope. Even through the breath of belief was small and fleeting. If the chosen one could survive then perhaps everything would work out in the end. Cora wouldn't see her coming and that perhaps was her greatest asset.

Snapping his fingers the fiend coaxed forth the last hope he could. Something soft weighed his hands in the adumbrating cloud of magic. "This is a special blanket. Knit from a fleece of gold. It can subdue some magic's." He held it out to the protective father. "Put it around your daughter. It will protect her."

"I can protect her." James rumbled challengingly, desperate.

A sad smirk came to the fiends lips. "Not from this."

Leaving the soft Golden Fleece on the glinting tip of the king's blade the fiend preformed a small bow to the new, exhausted and frightened mother holding her babe close. Fear and anxiousness laced both parents faces in a new tapestry of indecision and pain tat should have been joy and elation.

Regret and guilt stung that Dark One's heart like a lance. Belle certainly wouldn't approve but by heaven he was doing his best to at least make things right in the end. Pain would be unavoidable but at least their misery wouldn't be forever. The agony would be gone someday, even if he wasn't part of it.

What was about to occur wasn't fair to them. It wasn't right that there child would become what she would. He knew what was to come, but still he felt sorry for them and what they would endure. But the pain would end, he consoled himself. It would pass in time.

Snapping his talons once more without further goodbye, he disappeared in a puff of purple. In his heart he knew the Charming's would listen to his words. For all his cunning they knew he had only really helped them in the grand scheme of things.

Now all he had to do was deal with Cora and meet the tortuous fate that awaited him when he returned.


	24. Black Magic

Early morn sun danced across the firmament in pleasant reawakening as Cora waited impatiently in her dread citadel. Winter lay firmly about the realms like a cold shroud mantled about the land.

Diamonded frost encrusted the ground with crisp hoary whiteness of winters breath ghosting over the world. Rays of cool golden sun upon the fronds glittered merrily in the slants of light. All the world seemed sleeping and content in the thrall of winter, oblivious to the treacherous darkness about to overpower the lands in a dark shadow and rape the realms of their happiness.

Not even the wickedest of the world could fathom such a thing. Only few could even imagine such misery and fewer still who could realize such a terrible dream. No one would expect what would cast the world in turmoil and none would know what had occurred until she proclaimed herself ruler of all.

Satisfaction filled Cora's deplorable senses as she waltzed victoriously through her apothecary. Though the golden orb glowed merrily over the world in a cloudless sky, the tower and all confined within the tall, black walls were dim and dark. Shadows danced sharply about the thickly dim room, giving the walls jaded silhouettes of cavorting demons.

Behind her, a fire sparkled brightly in the stone maw of the large hearth that conducted the shadows like a master minstrel. The flames were a hellish red, infused with magic that would help enact the curse. Tongues of lashing, gluttonous fire leapt out eagerly as though starving to taste the black magic that would prod the embers into a veritable inferno.

In front of the cruel witch the largest stone table in her spire had been cleared leaving everything ready for the ceremony. A large stone bowl sat in the center of the table whilst next to the empty vessel was the orb of Wild Magic. Tall, black tallow candles in the holders of bleached skulls sat on either end of the table like morbid place holders. Insipid yellow flames danced crazily in the wind upon the apex of the black candles but never sputtered once.

A dire, dangerously pleasant smiled traced Cora's lips as her eyes scanned the preparation wrought together with her delicate hand.

Yes, everything was ready.

The spell was quite simple really when everything came down to the last moments. A combination of all three magic's would produce the power big enough to generate her enchantment. With their mastery and control over the power, she would formulate what spell was to be sent throughout the land then like a notched arrow taunt in a bow she would release the power all to willing to be unleashed and let the dark shadow adumbrate the lands in black despair.

The world would be dashed with misery from her wicked actions. Goodness would fail those of weak hearts and they would turn back to their old cunnings. The savage ogres would regain their strength and bloodlust and march once more from their noxious swamps in the west to bash skulls and pilfer plunder from the villages dotted about the realms.

Those of evil intent would rise once more from their sleeping morass and lethargy of peace and take hold of the kingdoms by the throat. With the evilest delight they would sink their teeth into the throbbing arteries and rip out the throat of goodness. The cries of the desperate would wail high above the lands and she, queen of the disparity, mistress of the fate of others would bask in their pleas and supplications and use them to balm the misery of her own!

Vile chuckles tumbled from her smiling, glossy lips at the thought of such wickedness rampaging about the world. Striding close to a scarlet paned window the witch peeked out over the vast forest alit with the morn and the rim of the horizon. Delight twinkled in her orbits like the frost gleaming upon the grounds

Desperation wouldn't be long in coming now, she knew imperatively. She could almost taste the delicious blackness washing over them. Once Rumpelstiltskin was back her dreams could finally come to pass.

At the thought of the Dark One her spell worn hands toyed with an ancient cube firmly tucked in her grip. Hands neatly by her stomach, the witch stroked the hard carapace of the box.

Dark brown steel forged of from the very gnarled hands of the deity Hephestus, made the panels of the box. Teethed cogs were crafted in the corners of the contraption and intricate designs of pulleys and rig mingled throughout the outside. Artwork of shades and demons were crafted upon the walls detailing the story of the legendry item. The top of the vessel was plated with darker steel than that of the cube. A blood red jewel sat dead center of the top, the only decoration of the box.

Small, made of steel, and more powerful than many enchanted items the vessel was a way to insure her victory. The box, Pandora's box to be exact, was meant for to hold evil, but the infamous container could hold anything the wielder of the cube wished.

Such as the Dark One.

"You knew." Rumpelstiltskin muttered calmly as he appeared in the apothecary amidst a thunderhead of roiling purple magic. Striding firmly into the spire without a hint of his normal flamboyant entrances, the fiend dropped the pale sack bloated with dust upon the stone. The sack fell forward at his feet like an offering to some horrid she-devil to devour, all to bring unhappiness to the lands.

Victory emanated from Cora like pulsing light as he appeared with his spoils in tow. Good magic flared about her wicked senses like searching hands of a blind maiden leaving no doubt in her mind what rested in the bag.

Holding up Pandora's Box the witch admired the deceivingly small trinket. Almost happily, the cruel harpy basked in the dark glow of evil swarming in the containers belly vying to be unleashed. The box was not only meant to keep disreputable things from escaping but the vessel was a small slice, a gift box as it were, of personal hell as well. The creatures and shades and monstrosities swirling inside had no qualms wailing and tearing at one another for endless centuries. Whoever was put into the box was destined for an eternity of torment at their claws and fangs.

A faint chuckle swelled to her demurely grinning lips. "I had a thought." She admitted freely, not even daring to deny the pride in her cunning. "It's the last possible thing that could stop me. I collected the box from your keep days ago, Rumpel. No doubt you stopped by your keep to see if you could gather some means to stop me."

"I tried." Rumpelstiltskin admitted ruefully, his face twisted in silent fury swarming just beneath his gray-gold flesh. What use was there to deny that? Of course he had attempted something other than contacting the Charming's. His last hope had been the box to avoid all the misfortune that would arise.

Sighs of puerile delight fell almost pleasantly from Cora's lips. Her almond eyes glittered dominance. With his confession came a thrill of utmost triumph. Burning malice gushed through her veins and prodded her black heart to a rapid tattoo. He had no more tricks, he was defeated.

Tapping her slender, magic calloused fingers along the edge of the box, the witch canted her head faintly to the left in mild curiosity. "If that is all in your repertoire of futility. Shall we continue or shall I destroy that love of yours?"

"Never that." The fiend replied softly. How dare she even think such a thing. For his Belle he would do anything to keep her alive. "I suppose you'll trap me in the box once all is said and done." Rumpelstiltskin reckoned aloud to the witch. The less her mind was upon Belle the better.

Wickedness gleamed like diamonds in her cunning almond eyes as a smirk twitched upon her shrewd mouth. "You know me too well, Rumpel. Of course I will. I can't have you in the way."  
"What of our child?" Queried the fiend tremulously, his eyes ardent with worry. "How can you separate me from my own flesh and blood?"

Cora nodded imperiously akin to a queen granting some clemency. "I shall raise the child… well. You have my word." A promise was easy to keep when something from that oath didn't even exist.

"And Belle." He spoke her glorious name like a hopeful prayer. Swallowing hard, his obsidian eyes took on pleading. "She shall live?"

Though he hated to ask, he needed to be certain. Not being able to see her everyday would be the utmost torment, but being in the box and not knowing she was alive would be a disease gnawing him at every moment.

Patting his cheek softly, the witch grinned, her pale face alit. "She'll be serving tea and dusting like always." Cora assured tauntingly. "In fact." She added slyly. "I've invited her to watch so use you can see her for the last possible moment."

Waving a small hand flippantly, the witch summoned black magic to her beck. All about the spire, the darkness danced to her commands. Shadows, like demon servants, parted from a niche between two book shelves on her mental command to the vile darkness. Bringing the corner out of abysmal night, the blackness revealed the heart of the Dark One caught in the throes of the witch.

Claws of shadowy power from the cold stone walls were lifted from the stone. Mutated by magic, the shadows held Belle in place as the retreat of shade reveled her. The magic claws were like dragon talons and gripped about her firmly, offering no chance of escape from the clutches of sadistic Cora.

Tears streaked down Belle's creamy skin as she stood before them. Shoulders slumped, her head barely looked up to meet them eye to eye. Her arms were low, to her sides but pulled slightly behind her. She seemed akin to a sacrifice waiting to have a dagger plunged into her chest and her blood consumed.

The sable claws curled about her wrists and mercilessly scraped against her skin coaxing blood from her flesh that dripped to the stone. At the sight of the Dark One, her body lurched forward as she tried to escape but the magic held her tight. Words would have spilled from her mouth, but a lash of shadow wrapped about her lips denying her the words laced upon her lips.

Dread stabbed the fiend to the core of his black, bleeding heart. His soul sank to the icy pool of his riotous stomach only to crash upon the ice that froze the scant bit of courage he held.

Did Cora have to still be so cruel? Could she not at least spare Belle some pains? Why was she made to watch him letting her down?

"Lets' begin." The fiend hid a show of agony with the revelation of Belle there to watch him disappoint her. Had she not been in peril even now he would not have done anything to aide Cora's plans but she was the reason why he did not start the magic willingly and started the magic out of force. Heaven above knew how he wished to run and set her free, but he couldn't do such, not when things stood so precarious.

Forcefully averting his black eyes, the fiend mumbled repentance to his love. "Forgive me Belle."

"She may." Cora interrupted cruelly, her smooth voice taunting and calloused to his misery. "Then again she may not. Besides everything will be in ruin and it will all be her fault."

"Pay no mind to her Belle." Rumpelstiltskin growled over her words. "The fault is me and hers. I hope someday you can forgive me."

Struggling against her cruel, cold bond of shadow, Belle tried to speak but the magic chocked her back. Lurching and fighting anew, she threw herself upon the chains, but they clasped only deeper against her flesh.

Desperation clawed at her soul as she ignored the pain. Cora had already informed her while waiting what he had not had the heart to relay. He would go into the box thinking she thought that he preformed the magic for some other cause. He would despair to torment believing something different.

Mirthlessly scoffing, the witch forced the clamps of shadow tighter over the beauty. With a hard slam, the magic forced the girl flush against the cold wall.

The sorceress smirk died a touch as she refocused upon the magic again. "Enough. We're wasting time. Those fairies will be along soon enough."

"Very well." The fiend heaved the sack upon the table. The content upon the table leapt and jangled slightly but that was all of the action.

Taking their places on opposite's sides of the table, facing one another, the Dark One and the dark mistress began to enact the ritual.

Summoning his power, the dark one concentrated upon the regents before him. His gray-gold hand hovered above the items upon the table as though giving them a dark blessing. His mouth murmured a small protection spell to aid in the harnessing of the magic. To control the magic would take all their skills combined.

Delicately picking up the glassy orb of wild magic the Dark One shattered the sphere like an egg. Arches of powerful, rebellious magic snapped out from the broken orb. The glass itself became greenish gray magic sprinkling into the bowl. Thick, vines spotted with long thrones shot up from the stone bowl like tentacles seeking to latch on and pierce flesh with jagged barbs, but Cora's magic managed to subdue the errant power.

Dark shoots of black magic coiled upon the vines like some noxious chemical. Swaying rebelliously, the thick green vines darkened and withered, their power leaving them limp and in the throes of attrition to bite or lash. Falling limply over the rim of the container the vines looked again to withered fingers that tried to escape.

Silently working in rapidity Rumpelstiltskin opened the sack of good magic. Glimmering dust puffed from the bag in a spurt of power as he ripped the draw string open. With a delicate hand, the fiend slowly poured the magic into the seemingly infinite stone bowl. Bursts of vibrant clouds belched from the vessel as the wild magic and good magic mingled and collided in thick menagerie of color and power. They were not too at odds, but what was to come next would prod their powers to their limits.

Power laid thick over the like some humid aura. The tower seemed unbearably hot. Sweat dripped from their brows and rolled in beads from every naked pore as they focused the magic. Even not at odds, the magic was a chore to control. The magic wished to be free, but they had to be tamed.

Hefting up the bowl in both hands once the good magic was wasted, the Dark One moved to the flames. Tossing the entire vessel into the fire, the fiend pushed his own dark magic behind the throw.

Before the stone container could even dash across the hearth, the flames leapt up from the hearth like some hungry predator. Forming into the image of flaming jaws of a dragon coming up from some hellish sanctuary, the magical blaze devoured the stone and all the magic lurking within. Taking the bowl in the flames grip, the fire engulfed every morsel of power.

Immediately the red flames turned into the darkest back leaving the room dimmer than before. Stray slants of wary golden sunlight filtered through the red windows giving enough light to see by. The heat became cold and frigid and flickered with frost instead of flames.

Dark magical smoke swirled at the very bottom of the fireplace as though the flue had been clogged. Small silvery arches of lightening arched through the clouds in their whirlpool of magic.

"It's nearly our turn." Cora muttered nervously as she rounded past the stone table. As the last of the dust poured out and the fog roiled over to the hearth the witch stretched forth her hands. Black streams of power tinted her fingertips as heavy magic's burst from her palms. "Now!"

Immediately, the Dark One turned his magic's to the power stewing within the maw of the stone hearth. Perhaps he could have tried to save Belle with Cora so preoccupied, but the magic required all his concentration to funnel into the good and wild magic and to maintain control so that the bulging power didn't break free. Any deviation could and would result in disaster for all four of them.

Focusing all his attentions upon the morass of magic before them, the Dark One sent waves of lavender hued power down into the swirling smoke. Billows of black and greenish vapors rose up from the tumult like lions raging inside the mists.

Drafty wind whipped into a zephyr about the room in wailing intensity. Hungry, errant power sang wildly through the air, attempting to vie for dominance with one another in the crescendo of magic. Books flapped open and flew off the stone shelves as though hurtled aloft by unseen hands. The hairs of the two sorcerers whipped and lashed ruthlessly about their faces from the tumult.

Not daring to blink, the two sorceress stared upon the blaze and the smoke. Light from the frigid flames cast their faces in sharp glinting angles as they prepared the magic for the deviousness of Cora.

A growl, half worried, rumbled from Cora's lips as the magic slowly came under thrall. "I've underestimate the power. We need more."

As she said so, she sent another burst of magic into the power swirling in the bowl. An arrow of blackness forged from the very depths of her heart sailed through the flames, striking deep into the snaking smoke with another lash of magic to subdue the power to her will.

Belle, watching on in distress, felt for the first time since the ordeal began, her luck turn. Slowly, incredibly, her chains began to vapidly loosen from about her slender form. With all of Cora's concentration on the magic she was taking away from what power that held her slave girl to watch the horrid act. So enraptured in her channeling, the witch felt not the chains of her cruelty thinning.

The razor black claws that held her wrists in a vice fell lax and began to meld once more with the coarse stone wall. Darkness faded from about Belle's wrist as though some light appeared through the room to drive the shadows back to nothingness.

Jerking her hands viciously, the chains of shadow snapped like rusted metal. A screech of dying power from the shadows added to the symphony of the wind. At once, the shadows fell back to being simply shades across the walls.

Not thinking twice, with a cry, the brave Belle raced to the witch. She couldn't let Cora do such things to the Dark One. Not to her Rumpel!

Tackling her captor the girl assaulted the witch who kept her prisoner. Anger erupted in a blazing inferno from her chest. The five years of torment all came back to her, every strike, every punishment everyday of going hungry at the hands of her cruel mistress all bubbled and spewed from the furnace of her soul.

Adrenaline pumped like magic through the beauty's veins as she tried to strike the sorceress. Her hands grappled with the witch trying to make her lose control of the magic and perhaps lose her life.

"You stupid, foolish girl!" Cora screeched as she fell hard to her back. Her entire body jarred from the unexpected strike, but she forced the feeling away. The girl was insane to attack at such a critical time! "Get off! Are you crazy; the magic needs to be controlled! He can't do it alone!"

Struggling for life and power the witch wrestled with the girl. At any other instance she would have sent a bolt of dark power to assail the woman and bring her low in an arch of pain, but her powers lay expended in the hefty spell that drained all her magic's.

Belle's strong grasp entangled with Cora's as she tried to subdue the witch that coaxed forth such misery. While Cora had languished for years and centuries, Belle's strength had increased with her toil. In matters of strength alone, the witch couldn't best her in any way.

Fighting for dear life, for her love, Bell grasped one of Cora's hands to pin her to the stone. Not willing to be caught so, the witch struggled like an adder caught in the talons of a hawk. In a lucky grace bestowed upon the witch, Cora shifted suddenly and the beauty lost her grip. Her hands entangled with Cora's wrenched sharply to the right. At the action, the jerking movement wrought from their fighting sent the ring on the witches left hand up and falling into the floor.

In mere seconds several things happened at once. Magic from the ruby ring, now bereft of a wearer died from upon Cora. Revelation swirled about Cora's body as the ring rolled away under the table. The power that held the illusion of a child faded immediately, leaving no hint of conception.

Shocked by the sudden dismissal of the spell the Dark One halted his magic in a jerking halt. Wisps of purple power dripped from his talons as his arms swung down to the side in amazement. Cora wasn't pregnant. It had all been some devilish trick!

Cutting off his magic, praying the action was not too late, the fiend raced for the cube that once sat next to the witch. Without the child, that changed everything! Grasping the box covetously, his last chance, he tried to open the lid.

"Belle move!" He shouted. Waving a hand over the top, the gem in the center glowed a blood red. Clicks and whirls hummed about the box as the gears and cogs churned and the lid slowly became open.

Scrambling away from the witch, Belle leapt away clear from the sights of the devious vessel. The very last thing she wished to be was caught in the same container as her vile mistress!

Managing to get to her feet, Belle fell flat against the wall. Blood galloped through her veins from the tumult of battle with the witch and the sudden change of events. Goodness lay right in front of them with a box!

Directing the magic of the box in Cora's vicinity, the fiend imaged her in his mind. Pandora's box, once in tune with the wielder would do the rest. Tendrils of dark magic snaked out of the box like tentacles seeking to grasp the witch. Soon she would be no more than a deplorable thought.

A grim smile etched the Dark One's face as the power began to grasp the witch in covetous want. She struggled akin to some worm caught in the sun, but her power lay expended in the failed magic.

Beaming with relief, success was nearly his before the ever faithful raven of the witch swooped down. Ivory claws glinting in the flames, the dutiful bird knocked the cube from the fiend's hands. Horror danced upon the Dark One's face as the box left his grip. Frozen, he watched the cube tumble almost slowly into the magical fire.

Silence, even from Cora rang louder than bellowing wind in the room.

That wasn't good.

For a splint second in the eternal stream of time the world was still and quiet. Frost still layered the dried grass and the sun still shown as brightly through the lattice of the naked trees. All seemed still and right just as the clam before a hurricane.

Abruptly a crack like lightening rang through the room resounded sonorously about the chamber. The foundations of the castle shook dangerously as though caught in the throes of a quake. Fumes of every hue spewed up and roiled contagiously up through the magical blaze. Thick, oily black smoke belched from the flames in a dangerous miasma of crazed power.

Taking advantage of the moment that temporarily froze them, the witch regained her senses. Scrambling to her feet, she slowly backed away from the hearth like a naughty child who saw their actions gone horribly wrong.

Misery was no longer her concern, nor the two that had thwarted her plans. The magic was out of control and once magic was fully free….

"What have you done?" Anger and terror both screamed from her mouth. No longer was there a grin, but fear. Pure, raw terror oozed from her pores like the sweat that drenched her dress. Her breath came shallow and tight from her chest.

Bigger and bigger the clouds of fog seemed to become billows rose to the roof and engulfed the stone. The clouds seemed to be eating away the castle! Not daring to stay and see what monstrously the lack and sudden addition of magic had caused the witch took to her heels. Gathering heaps of her blue gown in tight fistfuls the witch made all haste down from the tower. She would not be around to see what magic had done or what aberration it had wrought from the loosened awry spell.

"Rumpel what's happening?" Belle yelled to be heard. Holding a hand over her eyes she found the fiend staring at the sickly green and purple and black.

Hair whipping in the errant winds of the tumultuous magical storm running free, the Dark One grasped his Belle tight against his wiry body. "The spells gone terribly wrong, Belle! The magic has a mind of itself own. It's uncontrollable and running freely of any desire the power wishes. Whatever spell that magic deems it shall do!"

"What'll happen to us?" Belle hugged his body close. Wariness swarmed rabidly in her heart. Now that the magic was wild and of a mind of its own what could they possibly do? Not even the Dark One could stop the magic.

"I don't know!" He roared to be heard. "But Belle. I'm sorry."

Whatever the magic deemed, wouldn't last forever he knew, but at the moment there was no time to explain. All they could do was look upon in horror as the magic galloped freely without management.

Looking up she grasped his face in her hands. Her eyes were glad and dry. "No more sorry." She said almost in a laughing whisper. "Whatever shall come we shall be together."

"Together." Rumpelstiltskin agreed in a hoarse cry and held her tight. If this was to be the last moment they could share in a long time then he would be with her to the very, bitterest end.

Whatever would happen they would be one in time. Somehow, someway, the truest magic of them all would make a way out of the last remnants of Cora's failed plots stewing within the room.

Savagely pressing his lips on her, the fiend kissed his Belle with all the passion and love in his heart. True love's power rippled about them, awakened by the ardor they held for one another since the very first time they met.

No more fear dwelled about them. Only love, powerful, wild and untamed.

Betwixt them, a silvery sheen erupted over them just as the mysterious black clouds roiled over their bodies and then the realms….


	25. The Beginning of and End

A thoughtful smile emblazoned Belle's lovely features as she sipped aromatic tea from a ceramic mug in Granny's Diner. Warmth and the aroma of raspberries coiled about her frenzied senses in a cloying steam that banished all the thoughts of the day ahead away for a little while as she languished in her normal red leather booth and watched the foot traffic pass by.

A twanging melody from the chrome jukebox nestled in the furthest corner of the diner played an old country song on vinyl. Grease popped luridly on the large stoves in the kitchens mingled with the low murmurs of orders and a few chats that mingled in the morning air. The steady plink of the fan cords overhead rapped in an incessant tattoo adding to the chorus of droning activity in the diner.

Picking at a plate of nibbled toast and a half eaten omelet, the beauty reveled in the warm spring sun coming in through the wide window and the busy drone of awakening about her. After what felt like decades, winters grip over the little town of Maine in Storybrooke was finally broken. Hot sun poked through the hazy fog of thick, cold clods of wintry clouds and naked trees. Heat and life was once more pouring over the land. Buds dotted the tree limbs in speckles of green, the winds of the sea were warm, and the earth was softening as the land came alive with flora and fauna.

"Something on your mind, Belle?" Ruby, the red attired waitress of the diner queried curiously as she came around to check on the eternally pleasant Belle.

Dressed head to high heeled foot in skimpy red clothing, the amiable Ruby was one of the beauty's best friends. Ruby was a wild woman in many senses. Her dress flew in the face of small town decorum and so did her attitude. Belle had taken an immediate kinship to the smart tongued server who spoke her mind and held nothing back.

Allowing a small sigh to escape her lush lips, the busy beauty flicked a portion of omelet across her plate. Heaving her shoulders in a shrug she looked up to the coffee wielding waitress. "Nothing in particular, Ruby. Just things I have to get done today." She admitted softly.

The scarlet clad waitress made a face of displeasure and wrinkled her nose, her golden eyes brimming with irked pity. "One of those days, huh?" She shrugged in return as Belle nodded. "Too bad. If I were you I'd find a way to take the day off. There's something wonderful about today. I'm leaving in a little while myself."

Soft laughter bubbled from Belle's smiling lips at the announcement. How had she convinced the no nonsense Granny of that? Taking a nip of her tea she looked to the waitress conspiratorially. "More time with Billy at the body shop?"

"Well." Ruby drawled almost bashfully and looked down to her high heeled feet. "That piece of scrap metal is forever breaking down on me. He does know a lot about cars and you know how much car trouble I have."

Oh yes, Belle wished to laugh. Ruby had a lot of "car troubles" of which Billy was always there to see her rescued. The entire town knew they were smitten, though every one preferred to say it was only Ruby having "car trouble" again each time they were seen out and about in his tow truck.

Shaking her head good naturedly the beauty dove back into her meal. She would have loved to simply lose the day in chatting with her friend, but she didn't have long to fritter away time at Granny's. Part of her knew she would be a bit late, but she enjoyed the restaurant and the service above any other in town. The diner had a sense of home that warmed her heart in ways she couldn't exactly understand.

Casually turning her head to the window to once more identify faces on the street and watch the passersby as she finished her meal, the beauty noticed a novelty upon the street. Slowly she stopped chewing, her eyes focused upon the asphalt. Surprise wrinkled her features at the odd sight before her.

A bright yellow bug parked opposite of the diner. The car wasn't much to notice. Mud plastered the wheels and the edges no doubt from the roads coated in spring mud and the license plate was not a main decal. There wasn't much special about the car save no one in the town had a bright yellow bug.

She squinted her eyes at the license plate trying to figure the words. As they came into focus she leaned back in surprise. No one in their town was from Boston either.

"Speaking of cars." Belle muttered through a mouthful of egg before the crimson server left her table. "Do you happen to know who rides a yellow bug around here?"

If anyone would know who rode such a car, that person would be Ruby. The diner was the pulse point of life in the small town; the blood of where all news flowed at some point or another. All gossip and information slipped through the small town through the diner with startling alacrity. Nothing went undetected under Granny's or Ruby's nose for long.

Leaning against the booth table, the waitress peered out the same window as Belle. Golden, lupine eyes that danced with flecks of black in the sun puckered as she scanned the strange vehicle for some recognition. A yellow bug? Why had she never recalled seeing that before?

Stupefaction laced her exotic features as she racked her brain at the sight of the vehicle. "Nope." Ruby shrugged finally in reply, her mind drawing a blank. "Never seen that thing before. Billy didn't even have one in the junkyard. Must be someone new in town." A huff fell from her crimson lips at her own words. "Come to think of it I don't remember the last visitor we had around here." She sighed and moved along to pour coffee in another patrons mug. "I guess that what comes when living out in the middle of nowhere."

Middle of nowhere was an understatement, the beauty knew but she didn't voice her opinion aloud. "I suppose so." Belle answered half heartedly, her attention upon the yellow bug. Inside, her mind whirled with her ever blazing curiosity and a multitude of inquires. Who owned such a bright vehicle and how had they found their way into Storybrooke?

As the car door opened a woman with long blond hair and a red leather jacket stepped out. Looking confusingly about the road where she parked, the foreign woman jogged straight way to the diner.

The brass bell about the door jangled merrily to her presence as she entered for the first time in the new town. Her face was stern, but there was a hidden softness underneath her hard shell had potential to be unlocked. Silver cuffs hung from her belt and she strode about strongly as though she was completely sure of herself in everyway. In many ways she looked akin to an officer of the law save for any badge of office upon her person.

All eyes curiously fell upon the new woman as she walked in. Conversations dribbled to a halt as they inspected the stranger within their midst's. Many had not seen a visitor in many a day. A stranger would bring a fine new string of gossip to the small towns repertoire of tales.

Striding up to the counter and trying to ignore the gazes, the foreigner sat down on a chrome and red colored stool just as Ruby slid up.

"What can I get you?" Ruby smiled wolfishly at the unknown woman in the towns center. Unabashed curiosity glimmered in her eyes as they narrow upon the stranger that loitered among them.

The new visitor had no clue she resided at the heart of the town where news of her would spread like wildfire on a savannah.

Smiling faintly, the stranger put both her hands flat on the counter. "How about just some coffee and if you can maybe a little help." Embarrassment colored her face a slight pink hue. "I'm kind of… very lost." She admitted painfully and pulled out a carefully folded highway map from her jacket. "I got off on this weird exit and I couldn't find the interstate again. Maybe you can come to my rescue here."

"Coffee I can do." Ruby nodded sturdily then her face contorted in awkward apology. "But for directions you might want to see Belle. She's a genius with just about anything on paper. Just show her your map and if she can't help you then nobody in this town can."

A gusty sigh fled from the strangers lips. "Great." She muttered wryly. "Where do I find this Belle?"

"Right here." Belle announced as she walked up behind the woman. Taking the stool to the stranger's right she smiled pleasantly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ease drop but I overheard you and Ruby so I though I'd save you the trip."

The stranger perched a brow incredulously, her senses guarded about her new surroundings. The folk seemed helpful and the town certainly seemed nice enough but she was a stranger among them. "You're the map whiz who can help me?"

"Not really a cartographer by trade but I know my way around a map." Belle clarified with an easy laugh. Holding out her work calloused hand she beamed, her excitement deeply contained behind the strong walls of her heart. "I'm the town librarian."

Taking her hand warily, the stranger nodded. "Emma Swan. Nice to meet you…."

"I'm Belle." The beauty shook her hand. "Mrs. Belle Gold."

~8~8~

Delight swarmed through Belle's brave heart as she pranced up the stone stairs outside the walk and hurriedly entered the salmon pink manse that was her home. Letting the door slam behind her the beauty all but glided about the polished and freshly waxed vestibule. Happiness sang a symphony through her heart that made her dance upon the very breath of spring.

She was here, finally after 28 years she was here!

"Belle, sweetheart?" Mr. Gold echoed confusingly about their home as he heard the door slam shut with a large bang. Soft tapping slowly echoed through the home in a steady, strong thump that grew louder with each step. In a few heartbeats the wiry form of Rumpelstiltskin appeared through the hall where his Belle stood elatedly.

Clad in a suit rather than leather, the man Mr. Gold looked little like the fiend Rumpelstiltskin of old. There was no longer any gray-gold scale or fathomless sable eyes, but he was Rumpelstiltskin just the same. His hair was combed and his nails were not abnormal black points. A hand, not some greenish talon, curled over his cane that he needed from an injury before the mantle of the Dark One had fallen upon his shoulders.

He was so different in their new land, yet he was still so much the same. The cunning had not been taken from him like the scales. He was still just as dangerous and dark though all of his power was housed on the inside rather than the out.

Alarm masked his visage as he appeared in the vestibule where his wife stood. Normally he left before Belle to his shop but the day had been different. He had decided to open up late which was unlike him, but he had felt the strong urge and rarely did he go against his instincts.

Now he felt the urge yanks at his soul in utmost urgency. Belle would never be home early unless an emergency popped up. Had something happened at Granny's or work? Had she been harassed by some cruel young ones who called her the monsters whore as they sometimes did?

"What's wrong?" He fought down a spring of panic as his eyes searched her frantically. Taping over to her the Dark One gently neared as though she were a three thousand year old porcelain doll. His eyes scanned her for any injury. "Are you hurt? Has something happened?"

Protectiveness, fierce and hostile surged within the fiend like a dark wave. Those in town should know better, he knew. He might not have been around, but all should have known better not to cause trouble for her. If anyone had done anything to his Belle….

In Storybrooke all knew of the odd relationship of the beauty Belle and the beastly Mr. Gold. Mr. Gold could be a heartless brute, but Belle, his better half was always the opposite of his flares of darkness. Whilst Mr. Gold owned a pawnshop, eager to put a price of peoples valuables, Belle worked the library, helping and freely handing out knowledge.

People oft joked in the darkest shadows that Belle kept her husband on a tight leash; otherwise he would be even more callous and black and evil. Many wondered how they could love one another, being so different, but they did and their love was known by all who truly knew them.

"She's here, Rum." Belle wrapped her husband in a massive hug. "Emma is here in Storybrooke."

Shock beat the fiend's heart into a sudden, frozen stillness. His mouth parted slightly in the surprise of her words. Had his ears suddenly failed him? The one to break the spell was amongst them?

Long ago when they fist arrived in the strange new land he had told his Belle of the one to cast the chains of their curse away. Years and years without end they had waited and now… now….

Wrapping his arms about her gently, he stared deeply into her cyan eyes. "You're sure?" He asked just for clarification. "This is the one?"

"Of course I'm sure." Belle laughed gently. "All these years, Rum. Yes I am sure this is the one."

This was no coincidence, Belle knew explicitly. The first visitor in 28 years was a woman named Emma who had managed to get to a town deep in the forests and come past the barrier of the town that no other had ever crossed. This had to be the Emma of which he divulged of her existence long ago. There could be no other.

Since their first day in the new world Gold had not held anything back from his love. He relayed to her what he had done in hopes to break Cora's curse of misery. When the spell went awry the one he had gifted with the ability to break the spell had been taken away from the magic, unable to be affected by the powers.

In the new world everyone had forgotten their old memories all save them. Why, they still knew not, though Gold was convinced the kiss had protected them from the curse when the clouds roiled over them. Black magic had no power over true love, of that he knew better than most.

Awe blanketed the fiend's cautious heart as he wrapped his mind about the thought. Emma. Finally, the curse breaker was there. "How did you meet her?" He inquired breathlessly, hoping to hide his excitement.

"I was at Granny's and she pulled up in a yellow bug." Belle explained happily in a laugh. In their old world she would have probably been on a white stallion waving a sword, but instead she had come in a run down car and hand cuffs. "She was lost and Ruby pointed to me to help give her directions."

A disbelieving laugh fell past his lips. "Well I hope you didn't give her any." He teased happily to his Belle.

"Of course not." Bell slapped at his arm playfully. "I told her it was an old map and she would have to get a new one. Meanwhile I might have… pulled a few things loose from her car." She admitted lowly.

They couldn't risk her to actually leave. Her fate was sealed somewhere else than simply leaving like she had come. As underhanded as it was she needed to stay by any means they could manage short of strapping her down to a chair.

Laughter swelled from both their hearts as they hugged one another tightly. Love and togetherness tangled them together for the moment. Things were finally trying to work themselves out. They wouldn't just be two odd people in town with a secret to keep for much longer.

Looking up to his whisky broken eyes a smile twitched on her lips. "It's wonderful isn't it?"

"Indeed." The beast rumbled in his foreign accent. Brushing a hand over her porcelain cheek he knocked a few silken ringlets from her face. "The beginning of the end, my Belle."

"Mrs. Gold?" Another voice interrupted the gentle moment of husband and wife. Soft steps scuffed the polished floor, intruding upon the moment. From another corner of the home the final resident of the manse appeared.

Clad in a faded blue maid's uniform with white tennis shoes, Cora Mills peeked from behind a corner. Haggardness donned her body from 28 years of hard labor for the Gold's. She had worked for the rich couple for as long as anyone remembered. Everyone knew she loathed working for them and only them but none held any pity for her and they were the only ones to hire her.

Warily edging into their view, the ill tempered maid Cora appeared fully to her employers. Her dark hair was pinned in a lose bun about her head. Errant tendrils of ebony wisped about her sweating face, telling of her back breaking toil.

Wiping her hands she placed them on her hips. "I was cleaning the basement when I heard voices. Is there any trouble?" She smiled slightly at the thought. With everyday that passed she lived now to see her employers in turmoil.

"None of your business. You just get back to cleaning." Gold sneered deprecating at the worn maid.

"Actually." The beauty interrupted without looking to the maid. "Take the day, Cora. I've decided I want to be her with my husband today." Belle smiled tenderly to her love, her mind not focused upon the servant at all.

Surprise suddenly dashed the cruel grin upon the maid's features. For a moment a hint of gratefulness painted her visage before hate one more took enthralling root and pooled behind her eyes. "Thank you ma'am." Cora bobbed her head.

Without gathering any implement, the maid departed from the back door leaving the pair alone in one another arms.

"You're too good to her you know." The former Dark One chuckled lowly as the vile, brought low woman departed. How could she be so good to the harpy that had been so cruel to her? Cora deserved not a lick if kindness, but Belle still offered her former captor a kindness or two when she could afford.

Inwardly, Belle knew she was not as kind as her husband made her out to be. There were demons in her that lurked about for revenge as well. Part of her always wished to treat Cora the way she had been treated, but she curbed the emotions. She didn't and would never forget what Cora had done to her, but she refused to ever be like her.

Signing pleasantly, Belle snuggled against the Dark One's sinewy body. His warmth was an anchor keeping her in the excitement. "Let's not talk about her anymore."

"Then what shall we discuss, hmm?" He rumbled jestingly in a low, playful voice. With Emma in Storybrooke there was much to be discussed and much in the ways of happiness about to reign down.

Leaning up to him, her eyes searched him lovingly. Slowly her arms wrapped about his neck, bringing his head low as she stood on her toes. Her lush mouth, barely parted, neared his own. "How about happy endings." She whispered lovingly before her lips met his own in a passionate kiss of true love.

**~8~8~**

_A/N: Thanks everyone who read and reviewed! I loved writing this! I'm so grateful people take the time to read. I know I say this after every story, but I hope you all enjoyed reading as much as I did writing! Rum/Belle forever! :3_


End file.
